How can I convince you?
by stabatmater
Summary: That's the question. How can a foreign princess convince a traitor he's mainly an innocent victim of Galbatorix's unscrupulousness?   Warning: Quite OOC.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Eragon, Eldest, and Brisingr. I only own Rutania and its inhabitants.

Hey, I'm sure some of you will disagree with a few ideas of mine, but it's a fan fiction… so you don't have to live with it forever.

**Chapter One**

North of Alagaësia there is a small, free country named Rutania. The people of Rutania are hunters and excellent riders, and brave warriors, too. There is nothing more important than their loyalty to the royal family of Rutania, which at the moment consisted of King Darius, his wife, Queen Keira, and their daughters: Rea, the Crown Princess; Rebecca, the tomboy of the princesses; and Taitha and Tamara, the twins, both of them gifted healers.

This story is mainly about Rebecca, the second-born. At the beginning of it she was only fourteen years and ten months old. She didn't care much about courtly conventions and rules. Most time she was out in the woods hunting deer or experiencing the forest. She probably knew more about it than anybody else. Therefore one day it confused her when she looked out of the window and the forest looked somehow different. Her eyes narrowed when she tried to find out what the reason was, and widened again when she saw there were soldiers hiding behind the trees. Quickly she looked away and frowned. _What do they want? We're not at war right now. Not yet. They might be Galbatorix's soldiers. But no, that can't be, he needs all of them for the battles against the people of Surda, the dwarfs, the elves… So who are __**they**__?_

Rebecca jumped off her bed and went downstairs to the yard. Farmers and servants bowed as she was walking past them. She hurried towards the parapet walk and ran up the stairs. "Good morning", she greeted the guards and started to circle the castle.

_They're not everywhere. Only at the side of the bower. Should I be worried now? I'll better keep my eyes open. Heavens – what is THAT?_

Stunned, she looked into the air. A strange figure was crossing the sky above the castle. _This is not a bird. What else is able to fly? – Surely it isn't a…dragon? _

But it was. When it had disappeared behind some trees, the princess looked around, but nobody else seemed to have watched the dragon. Again, she started to think. _There are only three dragons left, now, after Glaedr is dead, may he rest in peace. Firstly, there's Shruikan, who must be bigger because he's very old. Then there are the dragons of the new riders. Blue, that's the one who joined the Varden, and red, that's the traitor. – It must have been the red one. The other one could never cross Alagaësia without being caught. But what did it do here?_

She couldn't think of a sensible reason. That evening she went to bed with an uneasy feeling. Again and again she checked the bag she had prepared. It contained her best dress, her bronze tiara, her bow and arrow, her recorder, and her everyday clothes – trousers, a doublet, a cloak, a shirt, boots. You could think the bag had to be very big, but it wasn't, she had packed it well.

At about midnight Rebecca woke up from a noise of wood banging against the wall of the bower. She immediately jumped off the bed and looked out of the window. A ladder was leaning against the wall, and it pointed towards Rea's window!

_That's it! __They __**are **__Galbatorix's soldiers. They want to kidnap the Crown Princess, because she is the most valuable; he doesn't like the fact that Rutania is still an independent country and wants to blackmail Father. This would be the end of Rutania, I'm sure. - I can't let them take her. _She grabbed her bag and ran into her sister's room.

"Rea!" she whispered, shaking her up. "Rea, listen, you have to get out of here. Now!"

Rea sat in her wheelchair and blinked. "But why?"

"Don't you worry. Just go! Go, flee to Surda, join the insurrectionists. I love you, Rea, my sister." She pushed the wheelchair out of the room, closed the door and lay down on her sister's bed, hiding her bag under her nightgown. Seconds later the first intruder had reached the window, climbed into the room and went straight towards her. Rebecca tried to stay calm. _I have to close my eyes. He mustn't see I'm awake. It is the only way to save Rea, to save my country and my people. How many are they? Six…seven…eight men. - Aaaahhhh!_

The men picked her up and wrapped her in a blanket they had brought with them. "Good", they muttered. "Now let's get out of here before anyone notices us."

Horrified, Rea cowered behind the door, looked through the keyhole and cried silently. The whole thing had only taken several minutes. Now the room was empty. Rea sobbed hard.

Rebecca lay on a carriage, her head hung down. _Eeks, _she thought when her hair was draggled through a puddle. _Hey, wait a minute – it isn't that bad. Nobody will be able to find out my hair isn't black. At least one good thing in this horrible night. _But to be honest, she wasn't scared. The situation was like some kind of adventure to her. Closing her eyes, she stuck her hair into the next muddy puddle the carriage passed. _Urrgh… well, it's worth it. _

After one long month of travelling they finally arrived at Urû'baen. The men drove their carriage to Ilirea Castle. They passed at least three curtain walls before finally getting to the inner courtyard. Servants were scurrying around; soldiers were patrolling on the parapet walk. In the middle of the yard there stood a tall man dressed in black, his dark hair hung in his face. He had obviously been expecting them.

"Sir", the leader of the mercenaries said in an obedient tone. "We've caught her."

Rebecca snorted. _Caught me, have they? Robbing a sleeping, helpless girl, ages younger than they are. Oh yes, heroes they are._

She was lifted from the carriage, the blanket fell down. She tried hard not to move her legs. They still held her arms but brought her to her knees in front of the man. "Look at me", he ordered. His voice sounded young. The princess decided to obey. _I'm a princess. I'm not going to lower my head in front of anybody but my King. Or Queen. _She threw her head back and looked up. Her eyes glowed with hatred._ He is really young. Twenty. Twenty-two, at most. This must be the traitor. _Her eyes narrowed a bit more.

"Take her to her cell. And make sure she can take a bath." He slightly wrinkled his nose.

"Yes, Sir." Rebecca was dragged to one of the buildings. The men threw her into a room and locked the door behind her. "Ouch!" Her voice was all hoarse. She managed to straighten up with her arms.

The so-called cell wasn't that small. There was a bed in it with a shelf above the bed-head and a table and a chair beside it. The door was embedded in a diagonal wall and pointed towards the bed. On the other side, opposite the bed and behind her, there was a fireplace and in front of it there stood a tub filled with hot water. A small girl, thirteen years old at most, stared at Rebecca, wide-eyed.

"Hello", Rebecca said. "Who are you?"

"I'm your maidservant, Miss." She approached the princess hesitantly.

"But you sure have a name, don't you?"

"Alaré."

"That's a pretty name."

Alaré helped her up. In the process Rebecca's bag fell down. Alaré squealed frightened.

"Can you keep a secret?" Rebecca asked.

"I-I think so, Miss. But it is dangerous here…"

"Can you or can't you?"

After a long pause she muttered, "I can."

"Fine." Rebecca looked around, but except for the maidservant nobody was around. She stood up. The girl gazed at her. She put her bag on the shelf, took off the dirty nightgown and sat into the tub. "Girl, I'm not a monster, so please don't look at me like that!"

This raised a small smile on Alaré's face. She fetched some towels and poured fresh water over the princess's head. Rebecca washed her hair again and again until there was no mud in it anymore. She scrubbed the rest of her body three times. Finally she left the tub and towelled herself. Alaré eyed the nightgown. "If I may give you advice", she said shyly, "this can't be worn in this condition."

"Thank you. Actually I wasn't planning to wear it." Rebecca smiled and took her dress from her bag. It was made of night blue velvet and had bronze embroidery on it. The cleavage, hem and ends of the sleeves were bordered with bronze cotton. Alaré gasped. "It's beautiful", she whispered. Rebecca put it on and tried to dry her hair a bit more. After a while it stood on end. Alaré placed the chair in front of the fire and started to comb Rebecca's light brown hair. Sometimes it hurt a bit, but Rebecca didn't complain. After having her hair dressed, she put her tiara on her head. Her feet were encased in knee-high leather boots. She had just sat down on the bed when the door was opened. Alaré gasped again. The men that had come for the captive rudely pushed her aside. They grabbed Rebecca's arms and lifted her on a barrow then carried her to a great hall. It looked similar to the interior of a church. On the other end there was a table. The traitor was standing beyond it, looking at the captain of his men. "She had a bag with her", he said quietly but threateningly. "How could this happen?"

"I – I – I don't know, Sir. Who knows what that little witch did to fool us-"

He interrupted himself. The traitor's look was scary. "You don't know? I will tell you how it could happen. You failed. _Thrysta._" His hand curved. The captain started to pant for air, obviously something was choking him. _Magic. This word, _thrysta_ or whatever it was is some kind of a spell. _Rebecca watched the traitor's hand and the captain's throat. _My goodness, he's dying! _She jumped to her feet, took a few quick steps towards the table. "Stop!"

Her loud voice echoed through the hall. The young man looked up. The captain fell to the ground, breathing hard. The traitor's eyes narrowed. He examined the girl that was standing in front of him. On her own feet. "You're the wrong princess." His hand twitched, he turned to the captain again.

"It wasn't their fault."

Amazed, he turned back again. "Whose was it then?"

"Mine."

The man frowned. "Out", he ordered. "All of you. Now!"

The soldiers quickly left the hall.

"Who are you?"

"I am Rebecca, Princess of Rutania. Second in line to the throne. And who might you be?"

"I am Murtagh, the traitor, son of Morzan, who was a traitor himself, and Rider of Thorn. - So it was your fault my men were such idiots."

"I had seen you. I heard the ladder. Not very clever. I swapped beds with the Crown Princess. My bag was hidden beneath my nightgown. My head hung down from the carriage. It is not difficult for a woman to disguise herself. No man would pay attention to my hair which hung in every puddle there was. You would not have been able to tell whether it was black or brown, either."

Murtagh folded his arms. "Why did you do that?"

Her sneer disappeared. "This is none of your business. I had my reasons."

He gazed at her. Suddenly she felt something enter her mind. She clenched her fists and tried to fight it back but it was too strong. _Relax,_ she told herself, trying not to let him read her thoughts. _Where there is no wall, nobody can break through._ To Murtagh's immense surprise, she stopped fighting, her hands and shoulders relaxed and she looked him directly in the eyes. She almost smiled. Murtagh stumbled back when his mind seemed to fall into nothing. Rebecca felt him leaving her mind and took two steps back.

"Guards!" he called. "Take her away."

The last view Rebecca had was one of Murtagh massaging his temples.

Two days later the princess stood in her cell, inspecting her bow, dressed in man's clothes with her quiver on her back. Suddenly the door flew open and Murtagh stormed in. Rebecca winced and clasped her bow.

"How come you still have your bow and arrows?" he growled.

She shrugged and put the bow in the quiver.

"Give it to me." He stretched out his hand.

"No."

"If you don't hand it to me, I'll take it from you by force. You'll wish you had handed it over by choice. So?"

"I obviously haven't spoken clearly enough yet", she said with a gentle smile. "_No._"

"Give me your bow", he ordered and took a step towards her.

Her smile disappeared, her eyes started to glow with fury. "Are you deaf? _**NO**_!"

He rushed towards her and grabbed the strap of her quiver. "No!" she screamed and tried to loosen his grip – but he wrested it from her. She let out a horrible, tantalized yell and fell down. A blood red line crossed her whole back from the right shoulder to the waist – exactly where the strap had been.

Stunned, Murtagh watched the blood soaking her doublet. Somehow he knew he had flayed a strip of skin from her back by taking the quiver. The princess whimpered silently. He stepped up to her and touched the only part of the wound he could see – her shoulder. "_Waíse heill_", he murmured.

Rebecca felt a prickle on her back and shuddered. _At least this is more comfortable than the pain. _She wiped the tears caused by her agony and stood up. Before Murtagh knew what was going on, she had grasped her bow and quiver. A flaw seemed to cross the room. Rebecca's eyes started to sparkle. "Thank you", she said, running her hand over the bow.

Murtagh was absolutely bewildered. "What for?"

"You have just made me the most powerful archer in the world."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Eragon, Eldest, and Brisingr are the property of Christopher Paolini.

Takes place after the third book. A few things might be mixed up a little.

**Chapter Two**

Murtagh was totally taken aback. "I just made you the most powerful… but how?"

"I'll explain some day…maybe", Rebecca replied. "Now would you mind leaving this room? I'd like to rest a little."

"Swear… I mean, promise you'll tell me."

"I promise."

"Fine." He left the cell, too perplexed to resist. What was happening to him? He hadn't felt that relaxed since he had seen the golden dragon falling from the sky, the unseeing eyes of the dying creature. But this princess brought a fresh breeze to the mouldy walls of Ilirea. She was so lively, so fierce; she was completely different from every woman he knew. He shook his head and told himself to stop thinking about things like these. She was a prisoner, a hostage.

_**She is indeed. **_Galbatorix's mind entered his with needless brutality. Murtagh held his head, grimacing with pain.

_My Lord, I am sorry._

_**There's no need to. Has she told you anything useful about her country yet?**_

_I am afraid she hasn't._

_**Well, try to find out something. I want to destroy the kingdom of Rutania as soon as possible. Do your best. **_And with one last painful sting the King left Murtagh's mind.

Days passed. Rebecca was bored to death. She felt like a tiger in a small cage because she never saw anything else but her room. Alaré couldn't bear her company all day; she was busy doing the laundry for half the castle and was grateful for every quiet minute. _My God, she is only eleven,_ Rebecca thought (she had asked). _Why does she have to work so hard? _But she knew it was an established fact that even small children had to work for Galbatorix. Ilirea was the capital of his empire. And she had been right; he had indeed planned to take hostage the Crown Princess of this small but nevertheless independent kingdom north of the Empire. _Like this stupid soldier said: Rutania is a thorn in his flesh_._ One more reason to be proud of my origin. Ha! We'll show you, usurper. _But that was a single light moment in two long grey boring dull weeks.

Then the idea of strengthening her body came to her mind. _I'm beginning to rust in here, which mustn't happen because I am a warrior. What use is a warrior who can't fight? _

So when Murtagh opened the door to her cell an hour later, the captive sat on the ground in a painful-looking position. Her face was reddened and sweaty, but she looked happy.

"What on Earth are you doing?"

"Just stretching a little."

"Why?"

"I want to recover my strength. Besides, the imprisonment is boring me to death." Rebecca stood up and let the upper part of her body hang down, legs closed. Her palms touched the floor without difficulty.

"Would you mind straightening up?" he asked impatiently. She did him the favour. "We should find another leisure activity for you."

"I'm perfectly happy with this one", she answered, washing her hands and face.

"I don't think so. – Come on." He grabbed her arm and pushed her towards a door by the bed which had been closed all the time. Murtagh murmured something and the door swung open. He pushed her up the stairs. Thirty-seven steps later they arrived in a tower room full of books.

"There you are", he said with a malicious smile on his face and let go of her arm. Rebecca rubbed it subtly. Then she opened one of the books.

"'_Domia abr Wyrda_'? What is that supposed to mean?"

Murtagh grinned. "You ought to read this book first." He handed her a book which said, '_Communicating with Elves and Dragon Riders As If You Were One of Them: An Introduction to the Ancient Language'_.

"What the…"

"It's kind of a dictionary, and a really good one at that. You'll find a grammar part as well. Have fun." And with that he left the room, hurried down the stairs and closed the cell door behind him.

A few days later Rebecca had started reading one of the simplest books in the small library, a storybook about plants behaving like humans. Murtagh realized it with amazement. "You're fast", he admitted with reluctant admiration.

"Thanks. You were right; it is richer in content than stretching."

He frowned disbelievingly. "I saw that maidservant washing your shirt this morning. It was full of sweat stains."

She blushed. "Well, I can't keep reading and learning all the time-"

He interrupted her. "Galbatorix doesn't like this. You must quit it."

Her posture changed from abashed into defensive. "I do just as I please."

"Not here. You're supposed to obey Galbatorix", he said dismissively.

She jumped up. Her eyes glowed. "I am a princess. I do not obey anyone but my rightful King and nobody but he is authorised to order me."

He didn't avert he glare. "With this attitude you won't come far in this world. You are too proud to survive. Think about it." His voice sounded almost pitiful. He turned on his heels and left the cell. Rebecca watched him go, her eyes filled with tears of pain and ire.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Eragon, Eldest, and Brisingr are the property of Christopher Paolini.

Takes place after the third book. A few things might be mixed up a little. Please review, anyway .

[For those of you who are interested in Roman legends: Rea is indeed named after Rea Silvia, the mother of Romulus and Remus, who was a vestal virgin and was made pregnant by Mars, the Roman God of War.]

**Time of Decampment**

"Father, I have to talk to you."

Rea, Crown Princess of Rutania, drove her wheelchair into the throne room. Her whole family was present. No, not the whole, she corrected herself. Rebecca, the tomboy, was missing. Rea clenched her teeth and approached her father.

"What is on your mind, Daughter?"

"It's about what Rebecca said."

Her mother winced. Rea threw a glance at her then continued. "She told us to leave Rutania. We should go to Surda. I assume the sea would be the best way to get there, as the land is controlled by the Empire."

Her family kept silent.

"What's the matter?" she asked impatiently. "I told you this weeks ago and it seems nothing has happened yet!"

"Rea, dear", the king began. "You see, nobody really knows what happened that very night. Apart from you there is no witness for what your sister said."

Rea froze. "You don't believe me."

"No, darling…it's a bit difficult to explain", her mother said hesitantly.

"There is nothing to explain. I told you several times: She came to my room in the middle of the night. She told me to flee to Surda, pushed me out of the room, and lay onto my bed. Then the men took her with them. Don't you understand? She sacrificed herself because I am the more valuable!"

They were still quiet. But their looks spoke volumes. Pitiful, disbelieving, careful. The twins glanced at the wheelchair. Rea's eyes filled with tears. "Fine, at least _she_ thought so!" she shouted. "I wish she was still here, I wish _**I**_ had been kidnapped. Rebecca is the only one who doesn't wish for me to have been born dead, to die before you do! She is the only one who knows me, the only one who likes and wants me. And if you don't listen to me, I'll go on my own!" She covered her face with her hands and left the room, slamming the door behind her. Her heavy sobs could still be heard after half a mile.

The Royal Family sat stunned.

Then Tamara spoke. "Father, I believe her."

"Me too", Taitha said. "We're not only able to heal physical, but also psychical wounds. If only you agreed to listen to her,-"

"-then we would ask her to come back and forgive us", Tamara finished her sister's sentence.

The king hesitated. Then he nodded. "Fine, I will organize the journey. Please tell her. And tell her we didn't mean to affront her, and hurt her so much."

Murtagh entered the princess's (hostage. Hostage! he told himself) cell. "Don't you want to get up today?" he jeered.

Rebecca lay in bed and faintly turned her head. He winced at the horrible sight. "No, not today", she croaked and tried to grin. Her eyes and cheeks glowed with fever. "Would you bring me some water?"

Murtagh grabbed the tumbler from the table and hunkered down, not daring to blink because he was afraid of losing sight of her. "_Adurna rïsa_", he mumbled and gave her the tumbler.

"Thanks", she murmured and drank a bit, trying not to spill any water.

"What's the matter with you?"

"Wish I knew", she replied. "Don't come near. I don't want to infect you."

"Rubbish", he answered back. "Let me see, maybe I can help you." He touched her forehead, it was red-hot. "I wonder what caused this fever."

"I didn't dry my hair last night", she confessed.

"Wet hair could never make you this ill. No, it must have been something else. Drink up while I'm looking for some herbs and your maidservant."

"Alaré. Her name is Alaré."

"Alaré then", he snapped. "Now drink!"

Rebecca sighed as she watched him leave the cell.

Within five minutes Murtagh was back. "There was something in your drink yesterday. Your body is just fighting it back. Alaré will care for you; she is therefore released from laundry. Get well soon; I have to go back to work now. Bye." And again he was gone. Alaré sighed in relief. "I'll see what I can do for you, Miss. Firstly: leg compresses."

In the evening Murtagh came back. "You may leave now", he told Alaré. She curtseyed and left the room. Murtagh sat on the edge of the bed. "You look much better than this morning."

"I'm almost totally well again", Rebecca smiled. "How was your day?"

He stared at her then began to grin. "Oh, it was boring, as usual. No prisoners to torment, no executions, no attacks…"

She poked him. "That's not funny, Murtagh."

"Sorry. No, I just had to do the administration and accounting thing. Who's died, who can't pay the taxes, who wants to marry…Galbatorix wishes to know all this."

"Total control." She frowned.

His eyes narrowed. "Call it whatever you want. Doesn't your father want to know these things? Where is he, by the way?"

She turned her face away. "You shouldn't ask me questions like that."

"It's my job", he answered.

They kept silent for a few minutes. Then Murtagh stood up. Rebecca turned and clasped his hand. "Can you spare some more time?"

He sat down again. "Why?"

"I'd like to keep my promise."

"Your…ah! Fine, I think I can stay a bit longer."

She sat back, closed her eyes, and thought for several seconds. Murtagh held his breath when she began to speak.

"You see, in my homeland, every newborn is shown several weapons. All kinds of weapons. It's a tradition. And then the newborn chooses his or her weapon."

"How does the baby know it's exactly that weapon?"

"It's a matter of intuition. The weapon that makes the baby stop crying is the, let's say, Chosen One. It will stay with the person forever; it will be his or her first and last weapon."

"But if this is done to every newborn in your kingdom, there have to be more archers. So why are you the most powerful? Is it a matter of birth?"

"I haven't finished yet."

"Sorry. Please continue."

"There hasn't been happening anything like this for about three hundred years, so I'm not sure…but legend has it that if a person's weapon is taken from this person by force and the person recovers the weapon without harming anyone, then he or she will have greater and more powerful skills - with the kind of weapon in general and this one weapon in particular. But the process is said to be very painful… which I can confirm now." She rubbed her shoulder. Though Murtagh's magic had been successful, there was a scar left. He watched her but she had obviously finished her story, so he shrugged and wished her goodnight. He stayed with her until she had fallen asleep then watched her sleeping for at least three-quarters of an hour. Finally he decided it was enough now, and left the room. He had only come three corridors far when he felt the king enter his mind.

_**Found out anything?**_

_No, my King._

_**Failure.**_

_I know, my King. But I daresay that Princess Rebecca would neither betray her family nor any other Rutanian, not even under torture._

_**How do you know?**_

_She is __absolutely loyal to her people. She knows how to protect her mind. And she is very proud._

_**She is proud? Too proud to save her own **__**skin?**_

_Probably yes, my King. _

Galbatorix kept quiet for a moment. _**Bring her here. Bring the whole court here as soon as you can. There is at least one certain way to break a woman's pride. **_And with a nasty laugh he left Murtagh's mind, not without causing an excruciating cramp in his back which made him kiss the dust.

He repressed a scream, convulsed with pain. "I hate you", he hissed through gritted teeth. "You stole my mind from me, my life, my freedom, the people who believed me, and my brother, who was the first real friend I had. _I hate you._" He repeated the last words in the Ancient Language while standing up. His voice became louder. "I HATE YOU!" His thoughts spun around in his head. _One certain way to break a woman's pride? Goodness, he means rape! She will never survive that. Breaking her pride means breaking her neck. I can't let it happen, no way! _Murtagh came to a decision, or at least he thought so. What had really happened was…

His True Name had changed.

He didn't know it. But he felt it, somehow, also because he suddenly saw no need in following Galbatorix's orders. And when he noticed this, he stopped short.

_Thorn?_

_**Yes?**_

_What's going on with me?_

_**Good question. I just wanted to ask you the same.**_

_So…you're feeling the same way?_

_**Yes. But if you ask me, I feel…**_He paused for a very long moment. Suddenly his triumphant shout exploded in Murtagh's mind:

…_**FREE!!!!!!**_

_Free… what a word._

_**Murtagh, that's it. We changed our True Names! We can flee! Eragon was right!**_

_Eragon…_The name brought him back to his senses. He hurried to his room, packed a small bag with fresh clothes and survival stuff then went for the kitchen. "Cook, prepare for leaving. Pack any food there is. Prepare two extra bags, fill them to the half. Hurry!" He left the kitchen and stormed to the courtyard. A spell made his voice become louder. **"Listen, everyone! We are leaving Urû'baen tonight. Pack your things and come to the gates of Ilirea! In two hours I shall see all of you down here!"**

Thorn had gotten his saddle. He dropped it in front of Murtagh and shook his head impatiently. When the Rider had finished saddling his dragon, he returned to the kitchen. Everyone was awake and busy preparing the journey. The cook quickly handed him the two extra bags. Murtagh left the kitchen and went for Rebecca's cell. __

Rebecca had only slept for two hours when someone shook her up. Grumbling, she rolled on her back and slowly opened her eyes. Step by step she recognized Murtagh's figure. "What…?" she murmured sleepily.

"Get dressed and pack your things. I'll be back in ten minutes." With that he threw a bag on the floor and left the room again.

"But – Murtagh!" she called after him. He didn't come back. "Go to hell!" she cursed him, got up, and slammed the door. Her nightgown flew to the ground; hastily she put on her trousers, shirt and doublet. She folded her nightgown and dress (which Alaré had washed just this morning) and crammed them into her bag. Her recorder followed, as did the book about the Ancient Language and the book she hadn't finished reading yet. Rebecca brushed her hair, put her tiara into the bag and threw over her cloak. She had just grabbed her weapons when Murtagh came back. "Your blanket as well", he said. "You'll need it. Oh, and put your bag into the one I brought you."

She did as he said. He was carrying a bag just as full as hers. "Come on", he pushed her.

"Where are we going?"

"Urû'baen must be evacuated. Galbatorix's wish. Now come on!" He held her arms behind her back. "Hey!" she protested. "What d'you think you're doing?"

"Shut up." His voice was as cold and emotionless as ice.

Rebecca shivered. Not only because they had reached the courtyard. A giant red dragon stood in the middle, the whole population of Ilirea and Urû'baen had gathered at the gates. Most of them were staring at the Dragon Rider and the prisoner stumbling by his side. She held her head high and didn't deign to look at anyone but the small girl who dared to step out of the crowd.

"Princess", she said shyly. "I wish you all the best."

"Thank you, Alaré", Rebecca replied with a warm smile. "God always be with you until we meet again." For a short moment the two girls grinned at each other like equals. Then Alaré curtseyed and rejoined the crowd. Rebecca was pushed towards the dragon.

_**Who's that?**_ Thorn wrinkled his nose.

_The princess. You ought to know her._

_**That's a girl? Gosh, she looked like a boy. So that's the princess. **_

_She'll travel with us. Be kind. Don't frighten her._

_**Meeeeee???? No way**__**! – Would you introduce me?**_

_Alright. Later._Murtagh raised his voice. "King Galbatorix ordered us to come to his camp. You will travel on foot. I will take the hostage with me because he wants her to be there as soon as possible. You will neither try to run away nor go anywhere else but to the camp. Is that clear, captain?"

"Yes, Sir!" The captain bowed.

"Good." Murtagh turned towards Thorn again and tied up Rebecca's wrists. _If I tell her to mount now, will you help her a little?_

_**Of course. But again, would you introduce me?**_

_Fine. _He sighed and tried to contact Rebecca's mind. _Can you hear me?_ No answer. _She doesn't want to be introduced, Thorn._

_Hey boys, I can hear you._

_**Haha! Hello, Princess.**_

_Rebecca, this is Thorn. Thorn, this is Rebecca. Please behave._

_**Sure! Nice weather tonight, isn't it?**_

_Oh haha. I can't even see the sky, you're__ blocking my view._

_Well then…_ "Up there." He pushed her onto the dragon. Rebecca had some problems with her wrists tied up but she managed to sit on Thorn's back. Murtagh sat behind her and wrapped his arm around her waist. Then he looked at the crowd,waved his hand and the gates swung open. "Go now." The people left the walls of Ilirea. Thorn reared up and stretched his wings, then he became airborne. Rebecca almost fell down. Murtagh held her. "Stay here, Princess", he murmured into her ear. "You're far too valuable to die by falling off a dragon. So do me a favour and try to keep your balance."

"Alright, I'm trying", she answered. "But it would be easier if Thorn wasn't flying like a drunken horse with wings."

_**What?**_

_Sorry. _

_Don't make him angry._

_It's all right now. But the start was a little wobbly. Whoa!_

Thorn had turned around.

_I can still see them. _They continued flying. After a while Thorn turned again.

"_Skulblakas Fen_" Murtagh whispered.

_**Pointless. I can still see them.**_

After two more minutes Thorn turned for the third time.

_**Now I can't see them anymore.**_

_You know what to do._

_**Yeah. **_And with that the red dragon flew westward.

"Er, Murtagh, you _do_ know the camp is in the south of Alagaësia, don't you?" Rebecca said.

"I know."

"So where are we going?"

"Definitely not southward." He untied her wrists and grinned. "Our destination is the Hadarac Desert."

Rebecca turned to face him with a disbelieving smile. "Oh Murtagh", she sighed and beamed at him. "Thank you!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** Eragon, Eldest, and Brisingr are the property of Christopher Paolini.

Takes place after the third book. A few things might be mixed up a little. _Please_ review, anyway!

**Swords and Magic**

After three hours of flying, Thorn finally landed on the sand. Murtagh and Rebecca dismounted. "We should be safe here, at least for a while. It will take Galbatorix some time until he realizes we won't come anymore." Murtagh patted Thorn's neck. Rebecca unpacked their blankets and put them on the ground. "Aren't you tired?" she asked.

"Yes, I am. But there's no time to rest, we must…"

"What?"

"Good point."

"I think you should accept there's nothing urgent we have to do. Just have some sleep." She lay down.

_Goodnight, Thorn._

_**Goodnight, Princess. Goodnight, **__**little one.**_

_Thorn!!!!_Murtagh sighed.

"'Little one'?" Rebecca giggled.

"Shut up", he growled, but it sounded friendlier than three hours ago. "He keeps calling me that, I don't know why."

"Compared to him you _are_ little. Maybe that's why."

"Haha." He put his head under his blanket. But her next remark made him wince.

"Why does your bag glow?"

"It is glowing?" He frowned.

"Don't you see that greenish glow?"

"No", he admitted. "But…" He hesitated and looked at Thorn.

_What do you think? Is it possible?_

_**I know as much as you do but I think it's worth a try.**_

_Really?_

_**Yes. Call it a **__**dragon instinct.**_

_If you say so… alright, let's look what will happen._"Here." He gave her his bag. "Open it."

Rebecca put her hands in the bag and fetched a big green stone from it. She shuddered when she set it on the sand. Murtagh stood up and put the bag away. He watched her as she watched the stone. "What is this?" she whispered.

"You'll soon know."

She held her breath when the stone cracked open. Seconds later it broke in half. A small green creature sat between the eggshells and blinked at the sky with big, emerald green eyes.

"A dragon!" Rebecca gasped. "Did you know?" she asked Murtagh.

He grinned in response. She grinned back and stretched out her right hand to touch the dragon. "It's adorable." The tips of her fingers touched the dragon's forehead –

"Aaaaahhhhh!" A glare blasted from the touch point. Losing consciousness, Rebecca fell on her back. The green creature whined and crawled to the insensible girl. Murtagh started to shoo it.

_**Don't.**_

_That little monster nearly killed her!_

_**We didn't know what would happen. The dragon is as shocked as we are. She wants to help her Rider.**_

_She?_

_**Did I say that? Must have slipped out. I **__**have no idea of the poor little thing's gender. **_

_Honestly? _Murtagh put the blanket over the princess's body.

_**Honestly. **_The word in the Ancient Language trembled inside his head.

The newborn dragon nestled to its Rider's cheek.

_**See**__**? Your worries were completely unnecessary. **_

_Fine, you were right.__ Does my omniscient, brilliant dragon know what to do now?_

_**No. Goodness, Murtagh, you're totally upset! What's the matter?**_

_I don't know… it's just that I didn't rescue her f__rom the king to let her die in Hadarac Desert._

_**She'll be fine, I'm sure. **_

_I do hope you're right._

Rebecca blinked. She looked into the blue sky. It had to be about noon, the sun was already quite high. Something hard but warm and comfortable pressed against her neck. A blanket had been thrown over her body. She could spot Thorn's shadow. Slowly she turned her head to see what was lying beside her. The tips of her fingers started to pulse when she saw the small green dragon, sleeping peacefully by her side. "Ouch", she whispered. "That hurt, you little monster." The dragon opened its eyes and looked at her, begging for pardon. Rebecca laughed quietly.

"You're awake", Murtagh's voice said from somewhere behind her. He sounded relieved.

"Mhm…what are we having for breakfast?"

He approached the girl and grinned. "Lunch would be the better word. You have slept for about two and a half days."

"Oh my God."

"You are now a Dragon Rider."

She fell silent and thought about it for a while. He started to polish Thorn's saddle when she spoke again.

"Did _you_ lose consciousness when you became a Rider?"

He froze. _I knew that question would come._

_**You ought to tell her.**_

_I know. She'll be furious. _Murtagh squared his shoulders. "No, I didn't."

"So why did I?"

"I…" He hesitated, afraid of her reaction. "I suppose it's because you're a girl."

Rebecca's eyes narrowed and she sat up. "I lost consciousness because I'm a girl? Don't you think that's a little misogynistic?" She clenched her fists. The green dragon growled and arched the back. Murtagh held up his hands in defence. "No, no, no! Well, it might sound so, but you see, there has never been any…we didn't know what would happen because, well, you're the first ever _female_ Dragon Rider."

The princess sat stunned, her eyes widely open. Slowly, she lifted the corners of her mouth. "You heard that?" she asked her dragon and run the tips of her fingers along its neck. The little one looked at her and rubbed its head on her knee.

The next day Murtagh started to teach Rebecca magic and swordplay. As her weapon was the bow, she had neglected other weapons. But she wasn't totally ignorant of how to use a sword. Every time Murtagh disarmed her, she picked up the second sword he had brought in his bag and attacked him again. She knew tactics and certain moves but she was just too slow for a Dragon Rider. Therefore Murtagh taught her how to use magic to strengthen herself. Soon she got the point, also because she had been studying the Ancient Language for a while. "Know the name and you control the thing." Apart from his lessons Rebecca did her own exercises. Her dragon helped her by staying by her side when she jumped and ran to warm up. They were quite busy in their first week in Hadarac Desert.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** Eragon, Eldest, and Brisingr are the property of Christopher Paolini.

Takes place after the third book. A few things might be mixed up a little. Please review, anyway!

**A Tough Choice**

"Murtagh?"

"Yeah, what's the matter?"

Rebecca looked at him thoughtfully. "What are we doing now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Just thought we can't keep living here forever. We need food, and water, and some fresh clothes…" Wrinkling her nose, she cocked her head and blinked into the sky.

Murtagh scratched his forehead. "I have no idea. What would you suggest?"

"As I see it, there are four possibilities: We could commit suicide; we could return to Urû'baen; we could go to Ellesméra, the Beor Mountains, or Surda; or we could go somewhere else."

"Wow. You seem to have thought this through already."

"Any comments?"

"We surely can't commit suicide because this would mean our dragons would die, too. And I WON'T return to the Empire…to Galbatorix."

"So – either the good guys or somewhere outside Alagaësia."

"Which would be?"

"I don't know. But Alagaësia isn't the world, you see."

"Duh. You're not expecting me to return to the Varden, are you?"

"Well, what else d'you want to do?"

"Go away…Alagaësia isn't the world, you see."

"Haha! No really, why don't you want to go to the Varden?"

Murtagh turned away and sat on a dune. She talked to his back. "C'mon, tell me."

"Hell, you're a pain in the arse! Won't you ever stop asking questions?"

"Excuse me? So far, this is the only question you avoid because it's inconvenient for you. – _Hombre_, Murtagh, just tell me. You know I won't drop it."

He laughed desperately. "I'm the bad guy, remember? It was me who betrayed the Varden, it was my fault Ajihad died, it was me who took Zar'roc from Eragon, it was me who – well – told the men to kidnap you, it was me who nearly killed the only hope of all these people – the rebels -: their Dragon Rider." He scowled into space. Rebecca carried her dragon and leaned against Thorn. "But you didn't want to do all this." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

"I did it nevertheless."

"You had no choice, had you?"

"How d'you want to know?"

"I read that book. I bet Galby breached your mind, found out your True Name and made you pledge loyalty. Then something inside your head changed…and now you're here."

He stared at her. "You're right. But you don't understand. I nearly killed Eragon! I mean…"

"He's still alive, though it's not nice to plan to kill anyone-"

"Just shut up, will you? This is something different… I guess they wouldn't even want my support if I intended to come back."

"They should be glad about anyone who wants to join them. Sure, they don't trust you, but after searching your mind they'll know you're trustworthy. You're one more Dragon Rider on their side and one less on Galby's."

"Don't call him Galby, that's disrespectful."

"I _have_ no respect for him."

"Argh…anyway, I won't let them search my mind. No one ever has, except for Galby- Galbatorix, I mean."

Rebecca stifled her laughter. "Why not?"

"My mind is _my_ mind. _Men have tried to breach it before, but I've learned to defend it vigorously, for I am only safe with my innermost thoughts_."

"Fine, if you don't want to go to the Varden, then we'll go elsewhere."

"_We_?" Murtagh echoed. "**I** will go elsewhere. **You** will go to the Varden."

"I'll stay by your side."

"No way. You'll join the Varden, Rebecca", he said inexorably. She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Listen, Murtagh, let's get something straight: We're not related, you're not my guardian, and we're not married, either. So it's my, and just my affair what I do, alright? You're not responsible for me. If I say I'll go with you, I'll go with you, even if you don't want it. I couldn't care less." She sat on the ground, panting hard, totally upset.

Murtagh looked at her and remained silent. Slowly he began to smile. "You'd really do that, wouldn't you?"

"Yes", she said from the bottom of her heart.

He grinned. "Why?"

"Well…you…saved my life and the freedom of my people…anyway, somebody has to keep you from screwing up."

"As if you could do that", he teased her. Rebecca jumped up, her dragon sat on the ground. "Want to bet?"

"You looking for trouble?" he answered and threw the sword to her, unsheathing Zar'roc.

"Yes! Somebody has to show you your limits!"

"You're too weak for this", he scoffed at her. "See?" Her sword fell down again. Rebecca picked it up, dodging his blade. "Yeah right, you're unbeatable", she said with a breathtaking smile. Murtagh blinked confusedly. Using this confusion, she took a step towards him and disarmed him. "_Absolutely _unbeatable."

"Fine", he snapped and grabbed Zar'roc. "Once more." She had to shy away from his angry attack and concentrated on keeping the sword away from her body. _God, he must be mortally offended! _

Half an hour later Murtagh had let off steam. He sat down and wiped his face. Rebecca wasn't done yet and reached for her bow. She chose an arrow and notched it. Then she drew the bow and aimed for a distal spot, at least 82 yards (=75 metres) away.

"Do you really think you'll score?" he asked. Instead of an answer she shot the arrow. It hit just the point she had aimed for, even Murtagh could see that. Rebecca turned and grinned. "Thanks to you, remember?" She rubbed her shoulder and went to get the arrow.

When she returned, he had prepared some potatoes for supper. He seemed worried. "Princess, there's not much food left", he said. "We have to come to a decision if we don't want to starve."

She raised an eyebrow and thought about it while dicing two carrots. When she threw them into the boiling water, she finally spoke. "I have an idea: I'll teach you how to let people enter your mind without freaking out, then I'll go to the Varden and ask them whether they want our help. I'll return with some food and tell you. And if they want you, we will join them. Alright?"

Murtagh stared at her then sighed. "Fine. Show me while the potatoes are cooking."

Rebecca sat a few metres away. "The main thing is that you have to relax. Just breathe in and out and think of nothing. It's not that easy, but doable."

"And does it actually work?" he doubted.

"Yes. Wait, I'll show you. Enter my mind."

"What???"

"Come on, I know you can do it."

"But…I don't dare to do it to _you_, you know. You sure you mean what you say?"

"I trust you", she said simply.

Murtagh breathed deeply. He put his hand on her neck and slowly entered her mind as if it was a haunted house. To his immense surprise there was no resistance, he could 'move' easily. Suddenly curious, he went further in. Her mind was like a piece of furniture with many drawers. He opened the one about her family.

Five faces beamed at him: a dignified man with dark brown, almost black, curly hair and beard; a beautiful, gracious woman with waist-length, sleek, copper red hair; two small girls who were like two peas in a pod – the same red curls, the same face, the same freckles, the same serious mien. And lastly a girl who had to be Rea, the Crown Princess. She was a bit older and sat on a chair, her fingers played with a piece of wood, her feet hung down motionlessly. Her sleek black hair hung around her shoulders, forming a contrast to the yellow dress she was wearing. Now she looked up, her grey eyes blinked at him – or Rebecca, if anything; there was a hint of a gentle smile on her face.

_Hm-hrm_, he heard her think.

_Sorry. I just wanted to get to know them._

_Fine, but please…this is really private._

_I'll disappear in a few seconds. Just wait – there is something strange about your sister… _He looked for her thoughts about Rea. Then he found out what was strange. A small, ashamed word. _Paralysed. _

_She is paralysed?_

_Murtagh, leave my mind. NOW._

"I'm sorry", he murmured after dropping out of it. "Shouldn't have gone so far."

"Accepted", she answered curtly. "Did you get the point?"

"Um, yes…partly, but I think I'll survive it."

"Good.

- Gracious!!!!! The potatoes are boiling over!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** Eragon, Eldest, and Brisingr are the property of Christopher Paolini.

Takes place after the third book. A few things might be mixed up a little. Sorry for that.

I've had this story in my head for a year…there have been so many different ideas for each scene, wish I could use them all but that would've been even more confusing. – I wanted Murtagh to be a good guy, so I thought of some solutions which would make sense. Hm. Hope you agree with this one.

* * *

**A Loyal Friend**

When they had finished eating, Rebecca sat back and stared into the darkness. The fire wasn't strong enough to light their faces, but it drew strange, flickering shadows on them. Murtagh contacted Thorn.

_Can you tell the little one to come over to her?_

_**Isn't that manipulation?**_

_Maybe._

_**Right, I'll tell it. **_

The green dragon crawled towards its Rider. Rebecca smiled slightly and tickled its neck. Greeny rested its head on her leg. Seeing that the princess had relaxed a little, Murtagh mumbled: "May I ask you something…personal?"

She gave him a wary look. "…Only if I may as well."

"You may."

"Ask, then." She hid her face behind her hair…which had become darker the last few weeks, he hadn't noticed it. "Did you…did you, let's say, sacrifice yourself because your sister is paralysed?"

Rebecca sighed. "Rea is the Crown Princess. She's the more valuable. But she is paralysed, yes, and her heart is very weak. She probably wouldn't have survived being kidnapped… People believe she will die before her nineteenth birthday."

"Which would mean your parents would have to find a husband for _you_."

"Why?" she asked bewildered.

"Well, to have somebody to reign."

"Excuse me? In Rutania, the Queen doesn't need a husband to reign."

"Oh. Sorry. – What did you want to ask?"

"Why d'you think your True Name changed?"

Murtagh frowned and deliberated on her question. "I don't know", he admitted. "Let me see… that was the day you had fever. I stayed with you until you were asleep" - he ignored Thorn's knowing snort – "then I went to…dunno. But Galby – Galbatorix, I mean – shut up!"

Rebecca tried to suppress her laughter. "Go on" she said with clenched teeth.

"The KING, then, contacted me in his usual painful way. He asked whether you had told me anything useful about your country. I said no. He called me a failure. I said I didn't believe that you would tell anything to anyone because you were proud and knew how to protect your mind somehow. He said there was a certain way to break a woman's pride and told me to bring the whole court to wherever he was. Then he left. Somehow I knew he meant rape-"

Rebecca's jaw dropped. She looked at him with wide eyes. He could see her fear in them. "See? I knew breaking your pride would mean breaking your neck. And I don't know how it happened, but for some unknown reason my mind decided to save you that. So…there I am, with my new True Name."

"I like you more that way", she grinned. "Not the bad boy anymore, huh? So why are you that reluctant?"

Murtagh growled and threw a small stick at her. "Get some sleep now, you'll have to travel far tomorrow."

In the early morning they got up. They didn't have enough food to eat breakfast, so they just washed their faces and did stuff like packing, brushing the sandy clothes, fetching water from the ground. Murtagh had started polishing Thorn's saddle. "So, Princess…" he began, "how d'you plan to get there?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Greeny's far too small to carry you, Thorn has to stay here, and you can't walk, so how on earth will you travel?"

"I thought that was obvious", Rebecca replied with false innocent surprise. "I'm riding."

"Wha- on a horse, you mean?"

"Nooooo, on a salamander. – Of course on a horse, what were you expecting?"

"But there is no horse around."

"As far as _you_ know."

"Stop kidding me! And don't be silly, horses can't survive in a desert like this one."

"Yes they can, and they're extremely fast and persevering horses, better than any others." He wanted to contradict, but when he saw her face, he kept quiet and watched her fishing for her wooden flute. "Gotcha", she mumbled and hid it between her doublet and her warm body. Then she watched the sunrise for about five minutes while Murtagh continued to polish the saddle.

"Hope it works, otherwise this is going to be extremely embarrassing", she muttered under her breath. Then she took her flute and turned her face towards the sun. Murtagh raised one eyebrow as she attached the instrument to her lips. Rebecca took a deep breath and began to play.

The song had no noticeable theme. It was more like the _wood _singing incoherent tones, but on the other hand it seemed to be a very, _very_ old song about the desert, probably older than anything else in Alagaësia. Everything was absolutely quiet, except for the flute. The whole world appeared to hold their breath and listen to the song.

Then the music got a beat. Far away something started to clop quickly, like drums. The ground began to tremble and the sunlight glimmered. A cloud of dust appeared on the horizon and drew nearer. Through the dusty air they could make out a large herd of horses heading for them…for the music, if any. Rebecca blew a few last, quiet tones and removed the wood from her lips. The horses slowed down and stopped half a mile in front of them. There were thirty, forty of them; all of them with long manes ant tails, shimmering fur, bright eyes, and flared nostrils.

_They're afraid of you, Thorn. I will go alone._ The girl got up slowly and approached the horses with caution.

_**What – afraid of ME? Why????**_

_It's like that. Snowfire and Cadoc were afraid of Sa- Saphira as well, I guess that's their flight instinct._

Thorn snorted silently. _**But they're not afraid of Becca.**_

Becca_??? Rebecca, you mean? Of course not, she's…oops, she wouldn't like to hear that: she's a girl. Horses are girls' stuff. Look._

Rebecca stood directly in front of the lead mare. They seemed to bow to each other. The girl spoke with a quiet, soft, respectful voice: "To you I offer my compliments, Queen of the Desert and her fellows. With all my heart I hope we are not intruding into your area." The mare neighed gently and rubbed her nose on Rebecca's doublet.

_**Suppose that means "Of course you aren't, little human" or something like that.**__** Blimey, she knows what ceremoniousness is.**_

_Shh, Thorn._

"I don't mean to affront you and please, you have to forgive me my ignorance of your way of living. It's just…I need to get to Surda as soon as possible, and we couldn't think of anything else but riding on a horse." She looked at the mare carefully.

"Would…would any of you mind carrying me?"

The lead mare hummed and looked at her herd. They seemed to communicate a while before one of the mares stepped forward, greeted her leader and nuzzled the girl's hand. The others lifted their hooves, turned around and stormed away. Within a few seconds they were but a cloud of dust at the horizon…

"Whoa", Murtagh said when the girl came back, the bay following her like a doggy (but with more dignity). "That was awesome. Are you able to speak to horses?"

"No, but if you know how they behave you can make yourself understandable and understand them as well. Do you agree?" she asked the horse.

The mare nodded her head slightly. Thorn laughed. _**This is so funny, Becca…oh sorry, I frightened the poor thing. **_

"Carina. Her name is Carina, alright? And by the way, why are you calling me Becca?"

_**Rebecca is such a long name. Don't you like Becca?**_

_I'm just not used to it. _

_Could we come to the end of this _fascinating_ conversation and discuss less important things like your journey today, REBECCA?_

"Didn't know there was anything left to discuss. So…I'm gonna pack my stuff and leave, if I may."

"Let me just tell you how to behave – don't laugh, you ought to know that."

"I promise I'll try not to get caught by Galby's henchmen and make everyone angry at me because of my father."

"Stop it, Rebecca!" he said angrily. "This is important. The Queen is Nasuada, the leader of the Varden. Ask for her. Before her father died, you had the same status, now you have to bow. The other persons you should talk to are Eragon, Arya, the Elven Princess, the Dwarf King Orik and Orrin, the King of Surda. Well, you don't _have_ to talk to Orrin and I guess Orik is not in Surda at the moment, but the others…are those who decide, mainly."

"Good to know. May I go now?"

"Be careful", he said and hugged her quickly. She mounted the horse, sorry: Carina, and waved at Thorn. _Keep an eye on him, please._

'_**course. Hey, where's Greeny going?**_

_What would you say? He-she-it's going with me, _Rebecca replied while helping her dragon on the saddle. Carina's eyes widened and she flattened her ears but stood still.

_Could you imagine _us_ separated, Thorn? _Murtagh sighed wearily. _You know her…Just let her do what she wants or you'll be in trouble._

_Exactly. Thanks for those charming thoughts, Murtagh._

_You know it's true._

_Absolutely, _she admitted and turned to face them with a broad grin. "See you, boys!" Then Carina started to trot and a few minutes later they were gone.

---------------------------A/N: The friend this chapter is named after is, of course, Carina. And I'm sorry for calling the green dragon Greeny, it's a stupid name, but Rebecca, Murtagh and Thorn needed a name for it instead of saying "little one" or "your/the green dragon". (So did I.) Anything else...ah yes. The song Rebecca played (and "recorder" means "wooden flute" in this case and not the predecessor of an mp3-player!!!!) was in my head before the story was and I imagined it sounding like the 2nd part of Karl Jenkins' "Stabat Mater". Dunno whether you can find it on the internet, but well...Please review!-----------------------------


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** Eragon, Eldest, and Brisingr are the property of Christopher Paolini.

Takes place after the third book. A few things might be mixed up a little. Sorry for that.

This chapter might contain a surprise for those who believe Galbatorix (ha, ha) but I hope you're not too disappointed when you get to know…I'm not gonna say the name, you'll find out anyway! And in case you have a problem with it, tell me.

Speaking of names: 'Cara' means 'darling' and 'Carina' is the minimisation.

* * *

**The Voting (Hope They Say Yes)**

Next evening Rebecca could see the walls of the Varden's camp. Having travelled for nearly two whole days, she was very happy about that. There was her destination, she could reach it within ten minutes on foot. Therefore…"Shoo", she said. Carina relaxed a little and slowed down. Her rider sighed contentedly. "We're there. That's Surda", she told her horse and dragon. The girl dismounted and patted her neck. "Thanks, Cara. You can go now, if you want to." Carina neighed and shook her head vehemently.

_Of course she won't leave,_ an unknown voice said inside Rebecca's head. She winced.

_What the – who are you?_

_Have a guess._

_Carina? No, can't be. Any of the Varden?_

_Wrong. I'm not that far away…_

_Wait, that cannot be…_Her eyes widened with disbelief. _Greeny?_

_Urrgh, stop calling me that! I want a real name._ The dragon, who was as tall as Carina by now, growled lowly and bared its teeth.

_So it's really you! _Suddenly her mind seemed to grow wider and more open. It was an incredible feeling. So…new and yet immemorial.

_Oh! …What's going on?_

_We've connected our minds. As far as I know._

_Great! Welcome to my mind! … This connection is beyond words._

_Yes, it is strange and new. Even for me, and unlike __you _I_ have been waiting for ages, lying in my egg and hearing that stupid king tell rubbish about me. Men!_

_So – _Rebecca giggled when she understood – _you're a girl? _

_Yes._

_Haha, almighty Galby was mistaken…Now there's a problem. _

_Why?_

_Well, I don't know many female dragon names… What about… Saphira? No, that's spoken for. Anyway, it doesn't make sense, you'd have to be Smaragda._

_I BEG YOU! _

_Sorry! I wasn't being serious! Hm…Opheila?_

_Errrrrr…you know, I'm hungry, little one. _

_Alright, I got it! Just let me think. – Why don't you make a suggestion?_

_Lenora._

_Lenora? _

_Lenora._

_Fine. Hey, Lenora! _

The girl hugged the dragon with a crazy smile on her face. In fact, she was overjoyed.

_Hello, Rebecca__._ Lenora sounded amused. _Are you ready for facing the Varden?_

_Now I am. With you here by my side…_

_I've been by your side for a month now, silly. _

_With you in my mind, then. I'm a bit scared, you know._

_Who'd know better than I do?__ Now come on, you needn't be afraid._

_I'm not afraid of being killed or whatever, I'm afraid…_

…_they might not want him. I know._

_But they'll never even know what I want if I don't go now._

_Good point. _

They looked at each other, then Rebecca grabbed Carina's reins and headed for Surda.

* * *

The guards had been extremely bored all day. Nothing had happened. They knew they should seriously be looking for enemies, dragons etc., but there weren't many of them around, so…

So they were excited when a small-sized person approached the camp, accompanied by a horse and something else that looked like a horse-dog-saurian-hybrid thing. "See that?" the first guard said. "Yeh'd better go tell the Queen there's someone strange comin' near."

"Leave yeh alone havin' all the fun? No way."

"Chrm, chrm", Rebecca said when she stood in front of them. Lenora had hidden behind Carina and her.

"Evening", the second guard said.

"Good evening", she replied politely.

"Who're you?"

"I'm Rebecca, Princess of Rutania, and I have to talk to Queen Nasuada."

The guards looked at her, at each other, then burst out with laughter. Rebecca just raised an eyebrow and waited until they had calmed down. Seeing she was still standing there straight-faced, the guards began to feel a little uncomfortable. "Princess of Rutania, are yeh?"

She said nothing.

"Then why're yeh runnin' around lookin' like a beggar with yer dirty clothes an' all?"

"Off yeh go", the first guard barked. "Or we'll be in trouble."

The girl smiled smugly. "Thanks, I can find the way myself", she told the stunned guards and entered the camp. Carina followed her. Lenora was the last one.

"Good gracious, a dragon!" the second guard whispered loudly. Lenora turned around and gnarled contemptuously. _Of course I'm a dragon. What did he think I was?_

_His grandmother who has revived from hell? _Rebecca suggested.

_Thanks._

_Sorry. Can you tell where Nasuada is?_

_Try yourself._

_Don't tell me you didn't pay attention in Murtagh's lessons!_

_I did, just want to test you._

_Cerrrr-tainly, _Rebecca jeered. _Ah, I think I know where she is. Let's go!

* * *

_

Nasuada sat on her throne chair thinking about the last battle. So many soldiers had died, had been injured, not to mention the magicians and this golden dragon, Gleyder or whatever his name was. Glaedr. She was too young for all this! Her father should do what she was doing now, he should be there telling the soldiers what to do and hold her in his arms when the whole thing was too much for her…Ajihad, my father, why did you leave me? Help me! Please help me…

Somebody entered her marquee. Nasuada startled and looked at who it was: A girl, not much younger than her, stood in the tent-door. Her brown hair nearly reached her waist, her clothes were dirty and looked outworn. A quiver hung over her shoulder, a sword was tied to her girdle. She took a few steps towards the Queen then bowed. "To you I offer my compliments, Queen Nasuada", she greeted.

"Good evening", Nasuada replied. "May I ask who you are and how you got here without me being informed?"

"I am Rebecca, Princess of Rutania, and I got here because it was urgent and your guards weren't doing a very good job."

"If you really are a Rutanian Princess, tell me their password."

Rebecca rolled her eyes and bent down to Nasuada. "_Tannengrün"_, she whispered. Nasuada nodded curtly. "What do you want?"

"Well…it's a little difficult to explain, and I would rather do that with Princess Arya and Eragon Shadeslayer listening as well."

"Anything else?" the Queen asked ironically.

"No. Please, it is of highest importance."

Nasuada sighed and called a servant.

Eragon knelt on the ground and held Glaedr's Eldunarí in his hands. Glaedr hadn't been responsive since Oromis' death. Now he was getting a little less broken-hearted but still wasn't willing to talk to anyone.

Saphira warned Eragon. A servant entered the tent and bowed. "Queen Nasuada wishes to see you", he said shyly.

"Thank you", Eragon said and put the Eldunarí away. On their way to Nasuada Saphira and he met Arya. "Do you know what she wants?" he asked.

"I'm afraid I do not. I hope we are not threatened by an army at the gates."

"So do I. However, we'll soon know." Eragon fell silent and Arya watched him compassionately. She knew whom he was thinking about.

When they reached the tent, Nasuada was deep in conversation with a boy – no, a girl in boys' clothes. She looked up. "Arya, Eragon. Thank you for coming. May I introduce you to Princess Rebecca of Rutania?"

The Princess turned and faced them. She was pretty…no, that was the wrong word. Her clothes and face were dirty, her long braid was dissolving and her cheeks seemed gaunt. But there was a fire glowing in her eyes and an enigmatic grin in the corners of her mouth.

Nasuada cleared her throat. "This is Princess Arya, and this is Eragon Shadeslayer." The girl greeted them courteously.

Eragon bowed, Arya nodded curtly. Rebecca examined the two. Eragon reminded her of somebody, but she couldn't tell who it was. He looked a bit like an elf, with peaked ears, hid behind brown curls, and a narrow face; but still a bit rounder than Arya's, whose slender figure was accentuated by her black hair which flooded down her back like a cascade. She looked tough. And beautiful, in a wild way.

"So, Rebecca", Nasuada began impatiently. "You said it was urgent and highly important. Will you tell us what it is?"

"It's quite a long story", Rebecca explained, "but I have to tell the whole story to make sure you…_understand_."

"I am sure we will get the subject very soon, thank you", Arya said dryly.

Eragon raised his eyebrows. Nasuada made a gesture and sat on the ground, the others followed her example. Arya crossed her arms, Eragon rested his head on his fist, Nasuada leaned against the throne and Rebecca folded her hands. "Do you know where Rutania is? It's north of Alagaësia and it's independent. So it was a thorn in Galb-…Galbatorix's flesh. He decided to kidnap the Crown Princess, who is my elder sister, Rea. He sent soldiers and a Dragon Rider to the castle…"

"A Dragon Rider?" Eragon interrupted her.

"Yes. – I saw them because nobody knows the forest better than I do. That night I swapped beds with Rea, and they kidnapped me instead of her."

"Why did you do that?" Arya asked.

"She's my sister", Rebecca answered simply. "Well, they brought me to Urû'baen, where the Rider had already arrived some time ago. They hadn't found out I was the wrong one until I deterred the Rider from killing someone for something he hadn't done. Then he told the soldiers to leave the room and asked who I was. I said I was Rebecca, Princess of Rutania, but only the second in line to the throne. He said his name was Murtagh" – Eragon winced – "and that he was the son of a traitor and a traitor himself. The next few weeks we got on fairly well, which surprised not only me, but also him a little…I think. Then Galby…urrgh, sorry, Galbatorix ordered him to bring the people to his camp and Murtagh told the others to go on foot. He said I had to be there as soon as possible, therefore Thorn and he would carry me. The moment Thorn couldn't see the people anymore, he turned…hang on…eastwards and headed for Hadarac desert."

"I don't understand", Eragon said slowly. "The camp's in the south…quite near."

"Don't you see?" Rebecca sighed. "Murtagh – and Thorn as well – changed his True Name! They're free. It happened when Galbatorix left his mind for the last time. He decided to flee with me. So…here I am."

_Hrrm-hm_. Rebecca could practically feel Lenora scowling at her.

_Sorry, sorry, sorry! I'll tell them right now. Wait._ "Um…I forgot to introduce you to somebody…may they come in?"

"If they're friends, they may."

_Lenora…_

_Coming. Thanks, Saphira, for keeping quiet._

The Princess unfolded her hands. Eragon gasped when he saw the _Gedwëy Ignasia_ on her palm. "You're a -"

Nasuada gasped, too. "Dragon Rider", she finished Eragon's sentence. Arya turned and her eyes widened. Lenora had stuck her head into the tent. Rebecca patted the neck of a bay horse. "That's Carina", she said. "And this is Lenora."

"Lenora? A girl? But we thought the last dragon was male."

_I definitely am a girl. Galbatorix was wrong. _

"See, even he makes mistakes."

The other three exchanged looks. Then Nasuada cleared her throat. "Are you sure?"

"Quite."

"We have to scan your mind to be sure you're telling the truth", Arya remarked, not sounding sorry at all.

"Be my guest", Rebecca smiled airily. Arya raised an eyebrow in surprise but put her hand on the girl's neck. Eyes closed, Rebecca breathed deeply and relaxed. The Elven Princess could enter her mind without problems. She decided to act quickly and having found what she'd been looking for, she left Rebecca's mind. "She's telling the truth…or what she believes to be the truth."

"Good", Nasuada said. "So why did you tell us all this?"

"I wanted to ask you whether you would welcome Murtagh if he wanted to come back and help you. – After having his mind scanned, of course."

"Yes!" Eragon said determinedly. Arya crossed her arms again, she looked hostile. Nasuada frowned and hesitated. "He betrayed us. And killed my father. On the other hand we could do with the help of another Dragon Rider…"

"I disagree. He shouldn't come back, the Varden don't like him", Arya stated.

Rebecca shrugged. "That's your choice."

"But…?" Nasuada asked carefully.

Arya laughed dryly. "If he mustn't come, she won't come either."

Eragon looked impressed. In fact, he wished he had this girl's courage. "Please, Nasuada", he begged. "Please give him a chance. You know it wasn't his fault. He will blame himself for what has happened for the rest of his immortal life – how cruel is that?"

Nasuada tried to hide her smile, but Arya's eyes narrowed. "Not as cruel as having to make friends with someone who killed King Hrothgar, Oromis, Glaedr and so many others! Eragon, how can you possibly trust him?"

"I don't, but I trust _her_, and she asked us to give him a chance. Arya, this doesn't mean we have to hug him and kiss his cheeks when he arrives, it just means _letting_ him arrive."

"Why are you so keen on this?" Nasuada asked raising her eyebrows.

"Come on, you do know that." Eragon looked down.

"But Princess Rebecca doesn't", Arya mentioned.

"Don't know what?" Rebecca wanted to know.

"Never you mind", the Elf answered coolly.

"Charming. Fine, I can wait if it takes you a month to decide. It's not like Murtagh" – they all winced at the name – "was starving out there. And Carina's missing her family. And Thorn's too weak to fly at the moment. So…"

"I understand", Nasuada interrupted her. "Can you wait one day?"

"Alright", Rebecca agreed generously. "One single day."

"Whew", the Queen sighed when a servant had brought the Princess to an empty tent. "She's exhausting."

"Tell me about it", Arya murmured. "But she is a Dragon Rider. We need her."

"And I bet she's a good warrior. Did you see her weapons? The way she wore them? I think she is trustworthy and honest."

"So do I", Arya admitted. "And there was something with her bow…I don't know what it was, but it made me feel slightly inferior."

Nasuada frowned. "What do you think? About M-Murtagh?"

"I want him to come back", Eragon insisted. Arya grimaced. "I am really unhappy about this. But we need him and the girl as well. So...well, yes. But if you ask me we shouldn't tell the people...the dwarfs."

"Some day we'll have to tell them. The day he arrives. And we must make clear that he is on our side. _If_ he is", the leader of the Varden added.

After a short while Eragon left the tent and looked for Rebecca. Having found her, he cheered: "He may!" The girl's eyes widened and she hugged him happily. "You won't regret it", she promised.

'_I do hope you're right_', Eragon thought.

* * *

-A/N: Sorry for the beginning. It was kinda short and abrupt and all, but I don't know how to explain what happens when a dragon begins to talk in English (me, not the dragon). & plz tell me if you find mistakes. -


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** The Rutanians, horses and parts of Lenora are mine, everything else belongs to Christopher Paolini.

* * *

**Finally Back**

Carina did her very best. She practically flew across the ground, her hooves almost not touching it. Lenora stormed behind her, Rebecca clenched her teeth and bent down. From far they could see Thorn's red body glittering in the sun. "Faster!" Rebecca whispered. "Faster, Cara!" Before the horse reached Thorn, she jumped off and ran towards him. "Thorn! Murtagh! We're back!"

_**B**__**ecca. **_

_Yes, me.__ Hey! – Wait, where's Murtagh?_

_**Help us!**_

_What? Oh my – _

Murtagh lay on the ground unconsciously. Thorn didn't move. The girl went pale. "Cara…" The horse neighed quietly. "Come here."

_I need water. Quick. Good L__ord, he's completely dehydrated. _

_**I told him to drink first before getting fresh water.**_

_Stupid fool__. What about you, Thorn?_

_**I'll be fine when he is. **_The dragon's thoughts sounded sick with worry. Rebecca lifted Murtagh's head and tucked the end of one of her water skins into his mouth. "Drink, you idiot", she whispered. "Drink! If you had listened to Thorn…" Lenora stretched her wings and formed a sunshade. The girl bit her lip. Suddenly seeing a movement in Murtagh's throat, she gulped and looked at Thorn.

_**Murtagh! Can you hear me, little one?**_

_Thorn? What on earth… _He tried to sit up, but Rebecca gently pushed him back.

"Slowly, Rider." He nodded slightly and frowned – the water skin was still stuck between his lips. She wiped off her tears (which she hadn't even noticed) and grinned. "Wait. Don't move a muscle." Thorn sighed with relief when he, too, was given water. Smiling, Rebecca refilled the water skins and sat down by Murtagh's side, a bit tired now. Carina had got rid of the bags herself and Lenora folded her wings again.

"So", Murtagh croaked, his voice still hoarse, "you're finally back."

Rebecca looked at his chapped lips. "Yes, and just in time, as it seems. Why didn't you listen to your dragon?"

He glared at her. "You said I wasn't your father. Accepted. But moreover _you_'re not my _mother_." He winced at his own words.

She glared back but had to smile. "It's just…I didn't make this journey to persuade someone of the innocence of a corpse, you know."

"Yes, right. I'm sorry. – What did they say?" He longed for an answer.

"Well" - she frowned – "Arya was not too happy about the whole thing, but that was clear. Nasuada tried to stay matter-of-fact and calculating, but I think she was utterly relieved. Eragon was absolutely into the idea of you coming back. He seemed to miss you very much."

"He probably does, the fool", Murtagh muttered and bent his head. "Typical."

Rebecca watched him carefully. "I suppose there is a reason for it?"

"Maybe." He shrugged nonchalantly. "We used to be… like friends before…all that crap happened."

"M-hm." She rose and went to prepare their meal – a soup.

* * *

"You haven't told me their decision yet", Murtagh complained next morning.

"Took you more than ten hours to realise it", Rebecca replied.

"Please, Princess, tell me."

"You may come."

"Oh." He looked somehow uncomfortable.

"What? – Oh no, Murtagh! You weren't hoping they'd say no, were you?" She gazed at him. He blushed slightly. "Well, it wasn't that unimaginable, was it! You'd think people you've betrayed once wouldn't trust you a second time."

"You're _unbelievable._" She turned her back on him and got her bow.

"I won't go there", he told her. "Not in a hundred centuries."

She buried her face in her hands. "What did I do to deserve this?" she moaned and turned towards him. "How can I convince you you're an innocent victim of Galby's unscrupulousness and you have to return to those people who do need you help – though they disavow it – the Varden, the dwarfs, the Elves? Arya, Nasuada, _Eragon_?"

He flinched at the last name.

_I knew that's it. _"What _about_ Eragon?"

Murtagh got up and came nearer but avoided her gaze. "He…is my brother."

Rebecca looked at him with disbelief then turned and went for the target.

"Can't believe it."

"I'm sorry. I know I should've told you way earlier, but…"

"No, silly", she said and shot an arrow. "I can't believe you actually prefer solitude to staying with your brother."

"But I don't!" he exclaimed, following her as she went to fetch back the arrow. "I want to see him again, more than anything else I want, but I couldn't bear seeing the mistrust in his eyes…or worse, betraying him again. Don't you understand? You have to!" He grabbed her shoulders.

"I - I understand…partly. But let me give you some advice from an experienced sister, it's worth it. I – I mean, even when you've done something horrible to your siblings, you can still apologise – mentally – and then think of the nice moments you've had with them."

"Does that really work?" he asked doubtfully, letting her go.

"I don't know", she admitted, "I've never betrayed any of my sisters, and maybe it's something different with boys. But I'm very, very sure."

* * *

_**Admit you're glad.**_

_No._

_**Coward. I **_**know** _**you are.**_

_So why do you want me to admit it, if you already know?_

_**I want to hear it from you.**_

_Damn it, Thorn! Oh, alright, I'm glad. Happy now?_

_**Yes.**_ The red dragon bared his teeth for a broad grin. Murtagh shook his head and mounted him. "You ready, Princess?"

"More than you, I guess."

"Would you two please stop teasing me! I could always change my mind."

_Carina and me are allowed to? _

_N__o!_

_What a pity._

_Come on, Lenora, leave him alone._

_Like you, or what? _

_For example. _Rebecca chuckled. _I wonder why Carina hasn't left. I mean, I told her she was free now, and you'd think she wants to escape your company. _

_She didn't leave in Surda, either. _

_**She likes you, Becca. Who wouldn't?**_

_Me, _Murtagh grumbled.

_Charming._

_Well, it's true, you're unnerving, Princess._

_**Don't worry. He likes you nevertheless.**_

_Oh, I know. _She grinned at Murtagh. He rolled his eyes and looked westwards. "I guess that's Carina's family coming there", he said. The girl turned her head. "You're right…Please, let's land." Lenora and Thorn touched down again. The lead mare of the herd came as near as possible for her and looked at Carina. The bay looked at Rebecca.

"I'll miss you, but I told you that you could go whenever you wanted", the girl reminded her. "Say hello to your family from me." Carina neighed softly and joined the herd. Within a minute the horses were gone and the dragons continued their journey.

_It's fantastic. Why hasn't anyone told me flying on a dragon was so wonderful?_

_You never asked. _

_Ph!

* * *

_

"They're coming!" Eragon run towards Nasuada's marquee. "I've seen them, they're coming!"

The Queen looked up with mild amusement. He was a Dragon Rider and seventeen, almost a man, but he still behaved like a little boy sometimes. At the moment like a little boy on his birthday. "Would you please go and welcome them?" she said. "I'm afraid I can't leave right now."

He pouted for a second. "Of course, Your Majesty." Eragon turned on his heels and headed for the gates. Saphira was flying above him. Arya saw him crossing the camp and joined him. "Where are you going?"

"They're coming!"

She smiled to herself. "I'll call Bloëdhgarm. He is the one my mother chose to scan Murtagh's mind."

Eragon frowned but agreed. He couldn't wait to see his half-brother. Outside the camp he and Saphira went further into the desert then stopped. His guards were coming right after them.

Twenty metres away Thorn and Lenora landed. Their riders exchanged a glance before they dismounted and stayed where they were, unsure what to do. Eragon smiled apologetically. "Good afternoon…"

Rebecca chuckled. Murtagh gave him a faint grin.

"…sorry, but you'll have to be checked first to make sure neither of you stabs me in the back when I try to hug you."

The girl chuckled again. Murtagh shrugged and stepped forward. So did Bloëdhgarm. The elf approached the man he considered as a dangerous traitor carefully. Murtagh rolled his eyes. Rebecca put her hand on his shoulder and they exchanged a quick look of reliance and gratitude. Then Bloëdhgarm cleared his throat. "I'm afraid you will have to stay away from him, Princess", he said with an indicated bow. "And we have to scan your mind, too."

"No problem. But quick, if you can." The princess offered her neck to the second elf. He was done within a few seconds. She watched Murtagh with worry, seeing his clenched fists and the furrow on his forehead. "Relax!" she murmured impatiently. "You're just hurting yourself." He actually calmed down. Bloëdhgarm seemed relieved when he left the Rider's mind shortly after. "He's safe."

"_Thank you_, Bloëdhgarm", Eragon said forcefully.

"But Shadeslayer…"

"Please. You said it yourself. I'm sure they'll understand."

The elf nodded curtly, threw one last mistrusting look at Murtagh and left, together with the other guards.

Eragon looked at Murtagh, a smile tugging at his lips. "Not going to stab me?"

His brother shook his head. "Never, little bro'." They grinned at each other, then Eragon lunged at Murtagh and hugged him, it was this special kind of hug only adolescent boys are able to.

Rebecca had turned away, thinking of Rea. Finally the guys had got their voices back and yet didn't know what to say. Murtagh was the first. "I'm sorry."

"I hope seeing my face gives you hell", Eragon replied and grinned. "It wasn't your fault."

"Hopeless", Rebecca muttered. They looked at her. "Excuse me?"

"I've tried to tell him. It doesn't work." She crossed her arms. Murtagh smirked. "Yes, Mommy."

Eragon raised an eyebrow. He could feel Saphira grin about the two. "What's the matter with you?" They looked at him as if they'd forgot he was there. "She keeps patronising me", his brother complained.

"That's not true! I'm only telling him what little whiner you are – _Oh, it's all my fault, I'm an evil traitor, they won't want me back, nobody likes me_ – ouch!"

"She's overdoing it", Murtagh said coolly, pressing his hand over her mouth. "Don't listen to her." Rebecca kicked his knee and he let her go, gasping. Eragon roared with laughter when he remembered something. "Um, shall we go to the camp? Nasuada wants to talk to you for sure and…er, yes. C'mon!"

By the time they reached Nasuada's marquee, the three Dragon Riders and their dragons were accompanied by half the camp. Everyone was determined to find out more about Eragon, whom they had known for quite a while but always with his guards around; about this girl dressed like a boy with eyes glowing with excitement; and about the young man who was the son of Morzan and a traitor himself. How could the leaders possibly trust him? The crowd was murmuring and gossiping, most ridiculous rumours were heard, and Rebecca had to clench her teeth to restrain her laughter. Murtagh couldn't see the fun of it, but he tried to keep a straight face. This was horrible for him, like running the gauntlet. _At least there are five persons who trust me_, he told himself. _Thorn, of course, Rebecca and Lenora because their thoughts are nearly the same and I saved their freedom, and Eragon and Saphira because we're brothers and Saphira is something like a sister-in-law to me_.

_I'm not sure whether that's Saphira's only reason to trust you, _Rebecca said. He could almost feel her mischievous smile.

_Hey, I didn't ask you to take part in my internal monologue. – What do you mean?_

_I'm quite sure…uh, Thorn, would you mind turning a deaf ear for a minute?_

_**Yes, I would. But because it's you asking…**_

_Thanks. So, Murtagh, what I was going to say is that I'm quite sure Saphira likes Thorn._

_So what? I like him as well, and so do Lenora and you._

_No, not like that. I mean, she __really_ likes_ him. _The way the girl said "liked" sounded as if it was something extraordinary -

_Ah!_

_Get it?_

_No. No, that can't be._

_Believe me. I'm a girl, I can see__ things like these. _

Murtagh snorted slightly. _I'll let Thorn in now._

_Goodbye. _Rebecca turned her head, there was only a slight hint of a grin on her face, but he could make it out and it made him feel much better. (This inspired the women watching them to more gossip.)

Nasuada was glad. For her it was impossible to hide her relief. Murtagh was back, they were stronger by two dragons and Riders, nobody had done anything to them, the dwarfs, elves and King Orrin had accepted her decision – gnashing their teeth, but they had accepted it. Could there be a better situation? No, certainly not, and that's why she was glad. Smiling, she greeted the leaders of the various groups who fought against Galbatorix, and beamed at Murtagh and Rebecca when it was their turn. The present men frowned at this reaction, but didn't dare to complain. Then the Queen stepped forwards.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!

I am very pleased to be able to welcome you to this extraordinary meeting. There has never been anything similar to it; therefore taking part in it is a very good reason for being proud. We have met here, members of completely different tribes. Urgals, Dwarfs, Elves, Dragons, Humans. And as it seems, there is no trouble _between_ the tribes." She paused for a second. "But _among_ the humans there are problems. People from Carvahall, Surda, Farthen Dûr, or wherever you might come from! Let us not mistrust each other and make it easier for Galbatorix to separate us, to win. One of us – yes, _one of us_ – was a captive of the man who calls himself King of Alagaësia. But he is free now and the fact that he lived in Urû'baen for some time only means that he has information no one else could give us. He was forced to do things he didn't want to do, but he had no choice. And if you don't believe me, just ask and try out what it is like to have to think somebody else's thoughts, to have to do what someone else wants you to do, and not to be able to resist.

That was all I wanted to say. Thank you for your attention and mark my words."

There was silence. No one said a single word. Suddenly Rebecca started applauding, Eragon and Angela joined her, and then the applause filled the whole tent, streaming out of it and making its way through the camp.

While everybody was busy clapping their hands, Nasuada called a servant and told him to bring the Princess to "you-know-where". Rebecca waved at Murtagh, _everything alright, _and followed the servant. He led her to a green marquee. "I shall leave you now", he said and returned to the Queen. Rebecca, however, stepped forward then hesitated. How do you knock against the door of a tent? She didn't know. Lenora cocked her head.

_Why don't you just say "hello"?_

_Good idea, thanks, Len._

"Um…Hello, anybody at home?"

The murmuring inside the tent stopped. A quiet, unsure voice asked, "Rebecca?"

She knew this voice, oh, how well she knew it! Her feet obeyed her heart, she stormed into the marquee, breathing heavily, stopping at the sight of a young woman on a chair, her heart overflowing with happiness she leapt forward and hugged the girl. "Rea!"

"Rebecca!" the Crown Princess whispered, half crying, half laughing. "Dear, dear Rebecca! You're alive!" They stayed close for a while, tears running down their faces, laughter mixed with sobs coming from their throats. Suddenly Rea felt her seat canting. "Whoa, careful, my chair…"

Rebecca giggled and let her go. "Sorry…I'm just incredibly happy! Oh my God, does that mean…" She turned around, beaming at her whole family. Her father, mother and sisters hugged her tightly and nobody was able to say anything sensible until Lenora felt that she had waited enough now.

_Hrm-hm._

_Yes, wait a second!_

"Happy belated sixteenth birthday", King Darius of Rutania said and scratched his beard. "I'm afraid we haven't got any such thing as a birthday present for you."

"Don't worry. I got the best presents ever to my birthday."

"Which would be?" Taitha and Tamara wanted to know.

"My freedom and an egg."

"An EGG?" Queen Keira echoed.

"Not just any egg", Rebecca grinned. "It's kind of…large. You will have to go outside to see the whole…" She didn't have to say that twice. The Royal Family of Rutania followed her Princess outside. Lenora sat there, stretching her wings and neck, and looked magnificent. Her green scales glittered in the sunlight, and when she bared her teeth, they were beautiful, perfectly shaped weapons.

"It's wonderful", Rea breathed.

"Her name is Lenora", Rebecca told them. Lenora glanced at the family of her Rider and smiled. _Say hello from me._

"She says hello", Rebecca translated.

"Are you a Dragon Rider, Becky?" Tamara asked.

"Yes, I am." Rebecca showed her _Gedwëy Ignasia_ to her sister. Taitha's eyes were as wide as marbles. "So you can do magic and stuff?"

"Not much yet, but yes. One day -" she looked at Rea and fell silent.

"Can you teach us?" the twins asked.

"Not now, alright? There are so many things left to do! Father, do you know how things are right now?"

"Yes. Very complicated indeed. Your arrival has been discussed for several days."

"You knew I was coming?"

"No, dear", her mother said gently. "They said, two Dragon Riders…meeting you here surprises us as much as you."

"Who's the other one, anyway?" Rea drove her wheelchair inside, the sun was too hot for her.

"Murtagh Morzansson."

"Are we supposed to know him?"

"Not yet." Rebecca grinned. "No, you have probably heard of him before. He is the traitor."

"What?"

She rolled her eyes. "Galbatorix-made-him-his-spineless-servant-but-now-he's-free-as-well-and-he-is-definitely-_not_-dangerous. Well, at least not for those who are on his side. Against Galbatorix."

"Good to know", the King sighed. "But are you sure?"

Rebecca sat down. "I'll tell you the whole story."

When she had finished, her family sat still, lost in thoughts. Rea was the first one to speak, she had noticed something which had made her frown and smile slightly in her sister's story. "What's he like?"

Rebecca thought for a second. "He's pessimistic, always makes things more complicated than they are, and never listens to anyone. He hates being patronised or told what to do, but does it to other people. He feels horribly guilty because he's done horrible things and doesn't understand it wasn't his fault because Galby made him do them. I had a job bringing him here", she grinned, rolling her eyes. "But-"

_Rebecca, he's coming._

_What the…_ "Excuse me." She left the tent. Murtagh stood between two other tents, looking worried. "Were where you?"

"Right here, Daddy."

A smile flashed across his face. "That servant took you with him without a word, and Nasuada was too busy to tell me where you'd gone. I wondered what had happened."

Rebecca came nearer. "Same as you an hour ago: Family gathering."

"Really?"

"Yes", she beamed. Murtagh felt a little sting inside his heart but didn't know why. "Mind if I leave? I'm the trai-" "Shut up!" She clapped her hand over his mouth. "Of course I don't mind, silly. Go back to your little brother, annoying the heck out of _him_."

Murtagh felt happier.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** Eragon belongs to Christopher Paolini.

* * *

**Brothers**

"Murtagh!" Eragon whispered and looked into the dark tent. "Murtagh, are you awake?"

"Huh…" came a small response. "Yes, why?"

"I'd like to talk to you alone, if you don't mind."

"Now?"

"Well, in daylight most people are awake."

"Alright, I'm coming." Murtagh got up and put on his trousers, then walked over to Rebecca's bed. There were too many people who had joined the Varden, so there wasn't much space left and they had to share a tent. Rebecca turned and mumbled something, grabbing his wrist. "Where you goin'?" she asked sleepily.

"Nowhere. Go back to sleep." He loosened her grip and pulled the blanket over her shoulder. Then he left the tent, where Eragon was waiting for him. They walked a little until they found an empty spot to sit down and talk.

"You like her, don't you?" Eragon asked.

"She's a very good friend", Murtagh affirmed. "But let us not talk about her, I guess you wanted to tell me something else."

"True. Murtagh, about what you told me about Zar'roc and inheriting it…" he began carefully. Murtagh stared at his feet. "Did that haunt you so much?"

"I have to admit it did. But then I went to…never mind. Saphira took mercy on me and finally showed me a memory Brom had given her."

"And?" The older brother tapped his foot impatiently, this was getting interesting.

"Well, you know…Shortly after you were born, Selena met a young man, a spy who was sent to investigate into Morzan's intentions. They fell in love and one day Selena realized she was pregnant…so she fled to her brother and gave birth to a second son. – Murtagh, Brom is my father." There was a long silence after the last discovery.

"That cannot be."

"But it's true. We're half-brothers."

"It would explain a lot", Murtagh said bitterly. "Son of the good guy, son of the bad guy."

"Not _that _again", Eragon groaned. "Stop wallowing in self-pity. And anyway, I'd rather be the son of the bad guy."

"Why the heck would one want that?" Murtagh was confused. Eragon thought about it for a while. "Well, it's like that: If _you_ are good and fight on our side – means, doing things Morzan would never have done – and we win, everyone will say: 'Whoa, I'd never have thought that. Maybe he's not that bad.' But if _I_ act like Brom and we win, they'll say: 'Now that was clear. But Brom would've done it far better.'"

Murtagh grinned. "That's an interesting way of seeing things."

"Better than _Skulblakas Fen_." They laughed like mad about the silly joke. Finally Murtagh wiped off the tears and sighed. "When Morzan died, I thought I was totally alone. Now I find that I have a half-brother…I mean, I knew it before, but we didn't exactly have time to get used to the circumstance, did we?"

"No. But you don't only have a brother."

"No?"

"I told you our mother fled to her brother. My uncle…our uncle Garrow. He's dead, murdered by the Ra'zac, but he had a son. Roran, my – our – cousin."

"The one who killed the Twins!"

"Yes, him. And as he's like a brother for me and he's married, you have a sister-in-law. _And_ I think she's pregnant."

"Oh dear, that's a little too much for the moment. A whole family!" Murtagh buried his face in his hands and leaned against a barrel. "Eragon." Oh, how good it felt to say that name again without feeling guilty! "I missed you."

The younger brother smiled at him. "Tell me about it. Every conversation felt empty without your biting comments and there was nobody I could fight with. Those elves are just too different."

"Well, these problems I didn't have. But I missed a male _and_ human friend who could understand me. Therefore I'm really glad to be back, little brother." Grinning, he ruffled Eragon's hair. Eragon growled angrily. "Why don't you just admit you are happy to have someone you can get on the nerves?"

"Hey!" Murtagh jumped up and pulled his brother with him, chasing him all the way back to the tent. "Who's getting on whose nerves, exactly?"

"Good night, dearest brother mine", Eragon grinned cordially and disappeared into the shadows between the tents.

* * *

Short, I know. But if I had made it longer, many other characters would've appeared and I would've had to change the heading. Tell me what you think about it, please.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** Eragon belongs to Christopher Paolini.

* * *

**Ellesméra**

"Why the _hell_…?"

"Because you need education."

"But we've arrived only the day before yesterday! - What if Galby attacks while we're off?"

"He won't."

"How d'you know?"

"We just _know_, alright?" Eragon said angrily. "Now do me a favour and pack your stuff."

Rebecca stormed away. Murtagh frowned. "I'm not as…heady as her, but I don't like this, either. Will you tell _me _how you know?"

"No." Seeing the hurt expression on his brother's face, Eragon added: "I won't tell anybody. Nasuada's order."

"What are we supposed to do up there, anyway?"

"I'll write you a list of things to do. The elves have agreed to grant you access to Oromis's home and his writings."

"How nice of them."

"Oh, Murtagh. Shut up or you'll really get into trouble."

"I know. But you said they were different."

"Different, yes. I didn't say they were arrogant."

"But you were thinking it."

"You said that."

"Yes, and I know I'm right!" Murtagh grabbed Eragon's arm. His brother sighed. "Only some of them. Many are nice."

"Arya, for example?" Murtagh half-sneered when he noticed his brother blush.

"For example", Eragon mumbled. "And Queen Islanzadi. And Rhunön, the blacksmith who made _Brisingr_."

"Fire?" He looked puzzled.

"No." Eragon grinned and unsheathed his sword, stepping back. "My sword – _Brisingr_!" The blue, shimmering blade burst into flames. Murtagh's eyes widened, the reflection of the flames dancing like small fires in his eyes. "Show-off!" But he was obviously impressed.

Eragon smiled. "Now do me a favour and find your little tomboy."

"She isn't MY little tomboy!" Murtagh said furiously.

"It was you who brought her here. Now you care for her."

"She can do that herself, Eragon. She doesn't need me around."

"But you hang around together very often."

"Leave it. Leave it _now_."

"A little touchy about that subject, aren't we?"

"Shut UP, you git!" Murtagh left the tent with one last glare at his brother. "Rebecca!... Becca, where are you?"

"Well, where would I be?" came an angry voice from their tent. "Thanks to the big bosses here, my family and I will be separated again tomorrow."

_Shhhhh, Rebecca. Calm down. It's not that bad._

_Says you. You have no idea!_

_Yes I have, silly. We're one._

Rebecca went outside and hugged her dragon. "You're right. I'm sorry. And you do have problems, too, don't you?"

_It's horrible. I can't go anywhere without stepping on one of you little humans or those fragile elves, and if I want to fly, someone tells me to come down because it's too __eye-catching._

_Don't worry, soon you'll be free._

_That's right, and you will fly more than you want to._

_Gee thanks, Murt. That wasn't exactly something to cheer her up. _

_Just trying to get things straight. _

_Well, I can do that myself._

_What on earth is up with you lot today?, _Murtagh blurted out with frustration._ First I can't find Thorn, and when I politely interrupt his little chat with Saphira, he turns his back on me. Then Eragon annoys the heck out of me, we're sent to Ellesméra, and over all you are grumpy and sulky like a rotten branch in the arms of a bog body._

"Like a _what_?" Rebecca giggled, taking a step towards him. "Oh, but poor you. Everybody's so mean to you."

He pouted. "Take me seriously for a minute, will you?"

She patted his shoulder. "Sorry. What's on your mind?"

"I don't know how to pack. Could you help me?"

"'Course."

* * *

They left in the early morning. Very few people were awake to say goodbye. Nasuada, at Eragon's urgent entreaties, had sent Jörmundur as her deputy because she needed sleep. Katrina, on the other hand, couldn't sleep and accompanied Princess Tamara. King Orrin himself appeared, and Saphira was there, with Bloëdhgarm as her bodyguard. Lenora observed Saphira's and Thorn's goodbye with a dragon smile. Tamara yawned. "The others were fast asleep. But I am to send you their love…and take yours back to them."

"Here it is", Rebecca smiled and hugged her youngest sister tightly. "Watch after yourselves, will you?"

"Same to you, Becky. Have a safe journey."

Katrina looked at the little copper-haired girl with worry. "I think you should go to bed again, Princess Tamara", she said. "Come back unharmed, you two…four. We need you, and you need us."

Murtagh smiled at her. "That's true. I don't want to lose my family right after I've found them, tell Eragon that."

"And be careful yourself", Rebecca added and her eyes pointed at Katrina's belly.

Orrin and Jörmundur were quite formal and matter-of-factly. Bloëdhgarm didn't say anything at all, just bowed before Rebecca and stayed behind Saphira. The magnificent blue dragon nuzzled the other dragons' snouts and let the girl hug her.

-_You, hold your tongue, red Rider. It will be hard, but do your best. We don't want you to get into serious trouble._

_But less serious trouble is fine for you?_

_-Don't treat that lightly. You have no idea how much you mean to Eragon._

_Wrong. You have no idea how much he means to me. _

_-I assume that's the same, then. Goodbye, Murtagh._

_Goodbye, Saphira. Take care of my brother._

_-__Hmm…_

An Urgal showed up and greeted them from Nar Garzhvog as the sun showed up at the horizon. "We've got to go. See you in a month." Rebecca and Murtagh mounted their dragons and Lenora and Thorn left the camp with a few powerful flaps.

* * *

"There it is." A green line was visible at the horizon, setting itself apart from the greyish-yellow air around, above, behind, below them. Hadarac Desert was everywhere. Sand, warm winds and the sun had accompanied them on their journey, and living in the desert had been harder than a week before. But now they could see Du Weldenvarden. Many elves had left, they were fighting the Empire somewhere else. Two of those who had remained were awaiting the Dragon Riders. Lenora and Thorn were a bit sulky, since they hadn't been able to fly through the border and now had to "crawl on the ground like an ordinary lizard", like Thorn said. After another brain check (Murtagh was furious) they continued the journey to Ellesméra. Arriving in the capital of the elves, the Riders were placed where Eragon had already stayed. One of the Elven guards bowed and told them: "Tonight there's a gathering at the Menoa Tree. We would like you to come; we need information about the situation of the Varden. And there will be music, poetry and dance."

"Thank you for the invitation", Murtagh replied politely. "We will most certainly be there."

"But not with this haircut", Rebecca whispered as they were entering the house. "Murtagh, be honest: When did you last see a pair of scissors?"

"Can't remember. Why?"

"Your hair is too long."

"I didn't know there was a rule."

"Well, you look like a girl, if that's enough to say."

He pulled a face. "Anyway. I can always tie it back, like you. Where's the problem?"

"It's too short to tie it back, but too long to look good. And long hair, especially as long as yours, is pretty unhandy in a battle."

"No, Rebecca, you're not giving me a haircut. End of story."

"What's the bet I am?"

"If you actually manage to do that, I'll dance with you this evening." He smirked confidently. They shook hands. Then Rebecca pulled him to a polished silver plate hanging beside the window to the road. "There. You look like a girl. And now try to catch me." She ran out of the lodging and stormed along the street. Murtagh followed her easily, but when she began to zigzag, he couldn't see her properly because of his hair falling into his face. He came to a halt to push it back. When he wanted to continue chasing the girl, he suddenly felt the cold, cruel tip of a sword in his neck, trailing along his cervical and his carotid artery in an almost caressing way.

"Gotcha", the Princess of Rutania breathed in his ear and put her sword away.

"You still won't dance." Murtagh was determined.

"We'll see to that", she smiled and twiddled with one of his strands. "Urgh, it could do with a washing, too…"

"What are you doing? Leave my hair alone." He stepped away from her and went back to the tree house. There, he threw a checking glance into the mirror – and nearly shrieked with horror.

"Pretty, isn't it?" Rebecca leaned against the doorframe, grinning.

"What have you _done_?" Murtagh run his fingers through the plaited strand. It was hopelessly entangled for him.

"It's definitely long enough for _that_."

"Undo it!" he howled. She didn't move. He sighed. "Alright, you win."

Rebecca beamed at him and left the room, only to come back with a large bowl filled with hot water, a small bottle of suspicious contents, a comb, a pair of scissors, and a towel. "Don't worry", she commented on his horrified stare. "It's not like you're going to be tormented or so. And Rea and I used to cut the hair of soldiers who had disobeyed Father's orders."

"Good to know", Murtagh growled sarcastically.

"They didn't complain. It was a lot better than being punished with a cane. Trust me." She told him to sit on the floor. "And you better take your shirt off." She placed the towel around his neck and sat on a stool behind him, holding the bowl in her lap. Firstly, she undid the plait. It looked ridiculous, especially in Murtagh's hair. Then Rebecca poured a faint green liquid from the bottle in the water. It smelt like woodruff, peppermint, wild garlic and moss at the same time. She pulled back the young man's head, ignoring his gasp, and wetted his black hair all over, ruffling and soaking it again and again.

"_Now _it's clean. You can get up again."

Murtagh opened his eyes. "Thanks." He started towelling his hair.

Rebecca put the bowl away, trying not to look at his abs. "I'm not done yet. Put the towel away, please." She combed his hair. "Do you want the same haircut you've had before?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed desperately.

"No, I mean, before it grew too long."

"Yeah, that too."

She pushed aside the two streaks left and right from his face and shortened them by only half an inch. The rest of his hair was cut to chin-length. "It will be chin-long when it's dry. Now you're free."

Murtagh jumped up. "Thank Heaven." He put on his shirt again. Rebecca used magic to make the cut-off hair disappear. "What do you think about it?"

He looked in the mirror and pulled down the corners of his mouth. "Hm."

"Murtagh, please. Say what you think."

He cocked his head. "I…I don't know. It's a bit…short. And strange."

Rebecca's smile faded away. "You don't like it." How sad she sounded! He looked at her and burst out with laughter. "'Course I like it, silly! – Come on, don't look at me like that. You should've seen your face." He flung an arm around her shoulder. "Becca, smile again. I was only joking."

"Ha-ha." But she couldn't help grinning. Thorn looked through the window and bared his teeth.

**_Looks good, Murtagh._**

* * *

_You look gorgeous, little one._

_Thank you, Lenora. I'm so excited! Do you think we're going to spoil the whole evening or make it much better?_

_Something between that._

_Whew…__ Now I just have to persuade Murtagh to come with me._

_He's promised it, hasn't he? You won the bet._

_And you think that's enough?_

_Maybe. _

_What are Thorn and you going to do?_

_Oh, we'll drop in eventually. But if there's no space, we'll go back and play hide-and-seek or I spy with my not-so-little eye. _The green dragon's head came close to the window and Rebecca saw said eye, nearly as large as her head, twinkling at her.

"Have fun, you two."

_Same to you. Oh, and good luck._

"Thanks." The girl left the room and stepped into Murtagh's. At first she couldn't make him out, but then she noticed a shadow sitting on the ground behind his bed. "Hey, you. Come, the gathering won't wait."

"Gosh, Rebecca, drop it. I think I'm not coming."

"You promised."

"I know, but I was sure I'd win."

"Bad luck. Murtagh, if you don't come with me now, I will never trust you again", she said threateningly.

He looked up and she saw his eyes widen: Tired of either the blue velvet dress or her worn-out, earth-coloured boy's clothes, the Princess had decided to accept one of the dresses the elves had offered by putting them into her room. The dress was made of white linen, and several small bronze belts held it together at the waist, accentuating Rebecca's slender figure. She wasn't wearing much jewellery; just the belts, her Rutanian tiara, and a leather band with a green scale Lenora had lost. Her hair, now as brown as cherrywood, fell down on her shoulders. He had never seen her that…elegant and feminine. Not even the blue dress had made her look like that, like a fairy, like a _princess_.

Murtagh got up. He was wearing the only neat black clothes he had. Zar'roc was tied to his belt and the shirt he was wearing had silver cufflinks. A red headband was hardly visible beneath his cut hair. "I knew I would give in…"

Rebecca stared at him then shook her head, laughing. "You're incredible."

* * *

At the gathering the two told the elves everything they knew about the current military situation. "Galbatorix won't attack the Varden for a month. But of course, the threat of it is enough to frighten the people there. Moreover, many of them still mistrust us, the Urgals and the alliances in general. On the other hand, the whole Rutanian people has joined them."

"There are enough weapons, but we are afraid they might not be efficient, as the soldiers of the empire can't feel pain. We ought to either solve this problem or find weapons that kill instantly."

"Well, you'll have to fight better then, won't you?" a strong-looking male elf with black hair sneered. The other elves stared at him. Rhunön, the blacksmith who had come to a gathering for the first time in uncountable years, took his arm and dragged him into the shadows of the wood. "Vanir, be quiet. You really shouldn't drink so much…" The rest couldn't be heard anymore. The chairman – or better, chair-elf - looked at the Riders. "I'm sorry. He is a little difficult to deal with these days."

"No matter", Rebecca smiled gracefully. But apparently the elves wanted to avoid any more unpleasant incidents and switched from strategy to dancing. Murtagh was quite unhappy about this, but he didn't dare to complain. Knowing Rebecca and seeing the quizzical expression on her face, he knew there was no chance of getting away.

He came nearer and bowed slightly, holding out his hand. "May I have the pleasure of the next dance, Your Highness?"

She gave him her hand with a quiet chuckle. "You may. And tomorrow we're going to study professionally."

"No complaints there", he murmured, concentrating on his feet.

* * *

A/N: You'd think that now, in the holidays, I'd be able to write much more. But unfortunately, the next chapter won't come out before Christmas...OK, maybe a little earlier. We'll see. I promise I'll do my best. - About Murtagh's ninja/Asian warrior headband: idk how I got the idea. If you don't like it, imagine it wasn't there...and/or tell me! I'm happy about any review as long as it's constructive criticism or a positive comment (not only about the headband, of course).


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** Eragon belongs to Christopher Paolini.

* * *

"Eragon?" Nasuada entered the tent. "We have to talk."

"Good morning, Queen Nasuada", Eragon yawned and got out of bed. "What's the matter?"

"We have information that Galbatorix will come for us in two weeks. How much time does it take a dragon to fly from Ellesméra to the camp?"

"Three days, I suppose."

"Well, they must leave on Thursday, so there is time to rest."

"What about the Elves? Will they stay where they are, to defend their place, or will they join us?"

"As far as I know, the whole army of the Empire is coming for the camp. Queen Islanzadi has already announced her arrival, as have the Dwarfs." Nasuada sat on a chair and buried her face in her hands. She seemed tired and desperate. "It's so much."

Eragon pulled over his shirt and knelt before her. "Hey", he said. "Don't worry. We're there." For a while they sat like children: a girl having scraped her knee, her friend trying to comfort her. _It's all right, Daddy's on the way, he'll bring you a plaster, and Mummy has made your favourite cake; don't you want to have a slice? Come on, I'll help you up. Oh, please, don't cry._ "Please, Nasuada, don't cry."

She sniffed and half-chuckled. "But it's so much." She really sounded like a little girl, not like the queen she used to be. The whole pressure nearly brought her down. And the tears came nevertheless. Eragon put a hand on her shoulder and helped her up. She flung her arms around him and cried silently. He let her hold onto him. "Shhh, Nasuada. It's all right."

After a while she let go with a last sob. Her eyes were red with tears, but apart from that she looked as always. "Thank you."

"Never mind", Eragon said and looked outside. Her guards couldn't be seen anywhere. "Hey, guess what? The sun's shining!"

"Oh, thank Heaven!" After four days of continuous rain, this was wonderful news. Nasuada stepped beside him and held her face in the sun. Suddenly a butterfly came nearer and sat on her nose. She looked at it curiously. For that, she had to squint, which looked really funny. Eragon burst out with laughter. The butterfly flew away, and Nasuada smiled at it. "What's so funny?"

"The expression on your face…but look at you. There's the smile. Queen Nasuada is back!"

She nodded, squared her shoulders and squeezed his hand with a smile before she left. There was work she wanted to do.

* * *

"This is fantastic. Look at all these parchments and scripts." Rebecca and Murtagh sat in Oromis's house and read the books, stories; the whole knowledge of the dead elf was collected in this house. The dragons were doing exercises on their own; Glaedr's _Eldunarí_ was assisting them.

"The magic he could do! All the things he knew! How could you possibly kill him?"

Murtagh's heart jumped and he got up. His voice was cold when he said, "I didn't exactly _plan_ to do that."

Rebecca jumped up, feeling she had made a horrible mistake. "Murtagh, don't go! Please! I didn't mean – didn't mean to – I'm sorry."

"Not _that _again. Now it's you who keeps apologizing." He rolled his eyes and forced himself to smile. _Why am I being so upset, anyway? I know she didn't mean to hurt me, and it's a thing of the past. _"We'd better hurry or we'll be late for sword practice."

"Oops", she murmured.

"And to your question: No, I won't hate you forever, silly." He ruffled her hair.

"Hey!" She dodged away. "Wait, when did I ask you that?"

"Never. I just guessed you'd think that." He grinned when she blushed. "Stop hitting me."

Just then Eragon's face appeared in the mirror. "Hello", he said hastily. "Haven't got much time: You have to leave Du Weldenvarden on Thursday. Galbatorix will attack next week." With that he was gone again.

Murtagh swore under his breath then looked over at the swordplay field. "Vanir will _so_ love to hear that."

"What's the problem he has with us, anyway? I've never seen him look not unfriendly at us." Rebecca went to the door.

"Eragon said Vanir had given him a hard time, too. He would have preferred elves as the next Dragon Riders. So…the feelings he has for Lenora and Thorn are divided up into admiration and scornfulness because they chose weak humans."

"Whoa. As if there were no other problems." Rebecca seemed to have come over the fact that Murtagh didn't want to talk about what she'd said before. He smiled to himself.

Vanir was already there. "You're late", he complained, tapping his foot. "Now get started. Quick!"

They put on chain mails and leather armour: a cuirass, vambraces and greaves. Another good thing about being educated together was that they usually fought against each other. If he could avoid it, Vanir himself wouldn't fight.

"Go on", he told them. "Get finished with that."

They started walking around each other, holding eye contact. Finally Rebecca, who was a little impatient, leapt forward and aimed for Murtagh's shoulder. He stepped aside, turned like a ballet dancer and might've caused a cut in her neck if she hadn't ducked. She hit his blade and pushed it up. He pulled her other arm and again, Zar'roc missed her neck by only an inch.

"Move, you sissy!" Vanir bellowed towards the girl. She let herself fall and slid through Murtagh's legs, knocking him off his feet. Lying on the ground, he rolled around when she got up and circled round him. With an artist-like move he jumped up and attacked her again. For a few minutes they kept fighting, and it looked like a dance. Their arms and legs became tired, their lungs worked hard. Even though he would never admit it, Murtagh was grateful when Rebecca stepped back and held up her left hand for a short pause. After some seconds of sucking in the air, Murtagh lifted his head and looked at Rebecca. She nodded slightly. It went quick: He pretended to attack her right side, and when she moved her sword outwards to defend herself, he turned over the back and pointed Zar'roc at her throat. She froze. A small drop of blood trickled down his blade. Murtagh took a careful step backwards and dropped Zar'roc.

Rebecca frowned. "What's the matter?"

"You're bleeding", he murmured and came near again. With one finger he lifted her head and stared at the tiny cut. He could see her gulp. His hand shook. She grasped it and put it away from her chin. "I don't feel anything, Murtagh. It can't be that bad."

But he was as white as a sheet. With a disgusted mien he picked up his sword and sheathed it. "Vanir, I'm not fighting anymore."

"You…what? You're refusing to fight? Disobeying my orders?" The elf looked dangerous when he was angry.

"Preventing myself from doing anything silly." Murtagh sat down on a stone at the edge of the arena, crossing his arms. Rebecca raised her sword and used the blade as a mirror to have a look at the blood. A second drop was absorbed by her shirt. The girl sighed. "Murtagh, it's only a scratch."

"Watch it!"

Vanir snorted. "Don't get distracted." His sword came from anywhere; he seemed ho have silver wings and claws. The best Rebecca could do was stepping backwards and warding off as well as possible. However, he hit her very often – not with the sharp edge, but with the pommel, the flat of the blade or the guard. After some tiring minutes she stumbled and he smacked the butt of his sword against her temple. Rebecca fell on the ground and held her head, which was throbbing painfully. "Ouch!"

"Get up", the elf snarled. "Do you think Galbatorix will spare you if you whine enough?"

"No, but I think that if I'd been sitting on a dragon when you knocked me off, I'd be dead now. I'm not a self-repairing machine, you know." She got up, rushed up to him, and Vanir pushed aside her sword so hard he dislocated her arm.

Now_ this_ hurt. The girl bit her lip and pressed her eyes together to keep the tears from running over her face.

"Oh holy spirits", the elf grumbled and set her arm. He did use some magic, so the joint would recover faster. "And now use your left arm."

"What?" she grinded out.

"You always use the right arm. Now try the other one." And he attacked her again. But only a few seconds later the dragons arrived. Rebecca nearly cried with relief. Vanir didn't say a word when the Dragon Riders left.

"That was mean of him", Murtagh said angrily. "How are you supposed to fight under these conditions? And it's my fault!"

Rebecca laughed heartily. "Not _again_. How come?"

"Well", he explained coolly, "if I hadn't freaked out when I saw you bleeding, if I hadn't refused to fight, you wouldn't have had to defend yourself against Vanir."

"Oh come on. He could've broken off the training. The only thing I really do regret is that you'll beat me at archery today."

He grinned. "It will be an honour."

_Hey, Rebecca. What's the matter with you?_

_Nothing, Lenora. I'm fine._

_Don't listen to her! Vanir has dislocated her shoulder._

_Oh, be quiet. I'm fine, really. _Lenora checked for herself.

_**Well, how was your day?**_

_Just reading parchments__ and fighting, as usual. What were you doing?_

_**Oh, Glaedr taught us to fly so close only a hair would fit between us. **_

_And then we __balanced him on our wings. He liked it! And we didn't drop him a single time._ Lenora stretched her neck proudly. Thorn waved his tail in amusement. _**She's like a newborn dragon.**_

_I'm not!_

_**Of course you are, Greeny.**_

_You know you're playing with fire, don't you?_

_**Well, we're dragons. So naturally I'm playing with fire. **_They chased each other along the sky.

"Well, how do you plan to use your bow?" Murtagh wanted to know when they reached the archery range.

"No idea."

Rebecca tried to pull the bowstring with her teeth first. Bad idea: The string flicked and her teeth hurt. Murtagh laughed. "Drop it, Becca."

"Not yet", she growled and sat down. She turned her back on the aims, and while Murtagh shot a few arrows, she pulled her string back with her foot, holding the bow with her left arm.

_ZING._

"I can't believe it", Murtagh murmured, slightly impressed. "You never give up, do you?"

Rebecca turned to see whether she had hit. Yes. But not the bull's eye. The girl pouted. "I do. Now."

"Maybe you're a little spoilt. You always hit the mark when using both arms." He prepared his long-bow again.

"Move it a little to the right. And stand parallel to the bow."

He raised an eyebrow and did as she'd told him. Strike. "Thanks. I almost forgot you were the archery crack."

She stuck out her tongue at him.

* * *

They spent all Tuesday learning as much as possible, but they had to pick the most important things because there wasn't enough time. Vanir quitted swordplay, ostensibly because it wasn't worth it in these two days. They didn't complain. In the evening Rebecca went into the forest to meditate a little. (In fact, she was working on the little gift for the elves.) Murtagh, on the other hand, went to a tiny hut at the edge of Ellesméra. Thorn followed him to make sure his Rider was safe.

_**Are you sure that's a good idea?**_

_No, but I promised Eragon._

_**Tell me the logic in that,**_ the red dragon grumbled and landed on the glade next to the hut. Murtagh glanced at him and Zar'roc, then knocked at the doorframe, as there was only a shabby old curtain covering the entrance.

"Who's there?" a croaky voice from inside the hut asked.

"No foe", Murtagh answered.

"Go away", the voice answered. "I don't want to talk to somebody I don't know." Uncertain steps came closer, and a trembling hand full of age spots pushed away the curtain. A shoe missed Murtagh's head by an inch. "I said go!"

"My name is Murtagh Morzansson", he said calmly. "Eragon asked me to look in on you."

"Eragon!" The man inside the hut spat on the ground. "Wait. What have you got to do with him? He's your enemy, Son of Morzan."

"Not anymore. And now that you know who I am, I'd like to see who _I'm_ talking to."

A man with a black blindfold stepped out into the sunlight, crossing his arms. "Seen me now, have you? Can I go back inside?"

"How are you?"

"Fine, as you can see, unlike me", the man grumbled.

Murtagh rolled his eyes. "Fine enough to be your usual self, I see – eh, as it seems. Good. I'll send Eragon your regards, Sloan."

"Don't", Sloan growled. "Fare_well_!"

"Farewell", the Rider muttered. Thorn snorted in amusement.

**_Now that was a cordial conversation._**

* * *

**A/N: **Wow, earlier than I thought...

What do you think?


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** Eragon belongs to Christopher Paolini.

Will be a short one…don't bite my head off.

To lengthen the thing a bit, I'd like to hear your opinion: The first chapters were quite horrible, and Rebecca was much of a Mary Sue (I hope she has improved a little). Should I rewrite them? I have an idea, but it would change parts of the story. So…what do you think? Please tell me.

**Night****-time Talk **

It was late. No, actually it was early. Early morning, one or two hours past midnight. The full moon shone and set the whole forest into a shimmering, silvery light. The rivers crossing Du Weldenvarden looked like silk ribbons in curly black hair; the older trees seemed to consist of white dust. The polished wood in Rebecca's room gleamed pearl-white; the room was as light as in daylight. Only the bed was dark because it stood right beneath the window.

A rather loud tap at the door woke Rebecca up. She pushed her blanket aside and got up. The bright moonlight dazzled her. Rubbing her eyes with a big yawn, she went to the door. Like a marble statue she seemed when the door went open. "Murtagh?" she mumbled sleepily. "It's in the middle of the night. Can't you wait till morning?"

"No", he said, closing the door behind him. With astonishment Rebecca noticed he was fully dressed. His weapons – Zar'roc and the bow – lay outside, next to a huge bag. "What're you up to?" Her voice sounded alarmed; with a jolt she was wide awake.

"I'm leaving. No, don't interrupt me – it's too dangerous, me being here. For all of us. The elves don't even like me. I've packed my things – Thorn's waiting outside – nobody will notice. I only want to say goodbye to you, Becca." He looked her right in the eyes and put a hand on her shoulder.

"But you can't just leave!" she protested. "What am I supposed to tell them? And, good Lord, we've been through this a thousand times: You. Are. Not. Evil!" The girl sounded desperate and angry, and a little like a small child. She scowled at him, her hands on the hips. He looked back without turning a hair. Slowly, his lips curved and began to twitch, the amusement in his dark eyes was obvious. His now widely grinning mouth opened and he started to laugh. "Oh, Becca. How easy it is to upset you! Did you honestly think I was leaving?"

She growled, wiped his hand of her shoulder and stepped forward. Hell, she was only a head shorter than him; this could get dangerous. "You – complete – arse – Murtagh – Morzansson!" Every word was underlined by a smack of her fist.

Murtagh grabbed her wrists. "Beware, dear Princess, we're not getting rude, are we?"

"Shut up!" she hissed. "How dare you take me in like that!" She struggled against his grip, but he was too strong.

"Oh, come on. You should've seen your face", he laughed. "Ouch! – Now that's enough, Milady. I told you not to be rude." He put both hands on her shoulders and pushed her so hard she fell back on her bed. With a leap he knelt over her, holding her wrists again.

"Let go", she asked him, breathless and still angry. She wanted to wipe, or better, slap that smirk off his face. Since when did it make her feel uneasy?

"No way", he grinned. "Are you ticklish?"

"You would have to let go if you wanted to tickle me."

"You do have a point there." He looked at Rebecca thoughtfully. Slowly he noticed how close they were.

How very close.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** Eragon belongs to Christopher Paolini.

Merry Christmas, Feliz Navidad, Joyeux Noël, Buon Natale, Frohe Weihnachten!

* * *

**Riding Home For War**

The eldest of the elves who had stayed in Du Weldenvarden formed a circle. The Dragon Riders were standing opposite their leader, who began to speak now. "Whether we will meet again or not, we do not know. Nevertheless, we hope we will. It was an honour to have you as our guests, and to express this, we would like you to accept this." He waved a hand at two of the other elves. They stepped forward, carrying two packs wrapped in brown fabric.

"As you might not want to change again before you leave", the elf explained, "the clothes you will find in there are fireproof and should protect you very well from arrows, stones and daggers. Anything else you can use to save your powers."

Rebecca nodded and carefully placed the pack she was given on her bag. Murtagh cleared his throat. "Thank you very much", he said stiffly. "We highly appreciate your gifts and your hospitality."

"We would like to give you something in response", Rebecca continued and unfixed a small pouch from her belt. "It is said that these are very rare because they can only develop with the help of a dragon. They're also dangerous, as they give those who own them the possibility to control people. However, I know they are safe with you and you will not misuse _flos nominum_, the Flower of Names."

A whisper came from the crowd. The elf she had spoken to raised his thin brows, his ink-black eyes were slightly widened in surprise. He reached out for the pouch. "We feel honoured. Possessing these seeds means a great responsibility."

The girl smiled to herself when his long white fingers clasped around the pouch. She stepped backwards, wincing when her arm touched Murtagh's. He, too, flinched and turned his face away. It was his turn now. He looked at the elves. "I didn't know with what to present you. When I came here, I didn't trust you and you didn't trust me." He paused for a second. "Some of you still don't trust me, which I can fully understand." He glanced at Vanir. "I cannot change this. But at least I can prove that I trust you." With these words he took off Zar'roc and the bow and handed both to Rebecca. He pulled his dagger out of his shoe and put it on the ground then stepped into the circle. In the middle he stopped, knelt down and closed his eyes.

It was deadly silent.

Vanir blushed. There was the traitor, whom he had always mistrusted and hated, kneeling unarmed in front of him and offering his neck to anyone present. This was something so brave and honourable, it exposed all those who believed him to be on Galbatorix's side…including Vanir himself.

After what seemed like an eternity to Murtagh, the leader of the elves cleared his throat. "We believe you", he said. "Please rise."

The young man opened his eyes and got up. When he returned to his place next to Rebecca, the girl gave him a slight smile.

_-That was brave of you, Murtagh. _She seemed impressed.

_I know. __I felt horrible, but it was the right thing to do.

* * *

_

A thousand ceremonies, bows, and handshakes later they were on their way back to the camp. As soon as they had crossed the border between Du Weldenvarden and Hadarac Desert, Thorn turned furious._** That was stupid of you! They could've killed you, what were you thinking, you fool? Don't ever do that again!**_

_It was necessary!__ Who knows, maybe I'll be grateful for it one day. It would have been dangerous to fight with some elves still being my enemies. _

_**But…**_, Thorn began, but Murtagh interrupted him. _Besides, I didn't have anything else to give them. _Lenora chuckled.

"What is the Flower of Names, anyway?"

"Depending on who is the last to touch the seed, it shows you the True Name of this person."

That was why it was so dangerous. "How does it work?"

"Well, suppose my True Name was Honeysuckle."

He snorted with laughter. Rebecca scowled. "_Suppose!_ Then the seed would grow into a honeysuckle plant."

"Ah." He wiped his eyes. "And if my True Name was Ironside?"

Now it was her turn to laugh. "Not in a hundred years, but then the flower would look as if _Ironside_ was the only proper name for it."

"I see. So it's very valuable." He stared at the horizon. "I shall be so happy when we're back." They travelled in silence for a while. Finally Rebecca had gathered the courage to ask something that had been on her mind since this morning. "Last night…"

"Yes?" Murtagh blurted out; he'd obviously been thinking about the same thing.

"How will we…uh, go on?"

"No public display of affection", he responded curtly. "Galbatorix might use it against us."

"I don't know about any affection we could display", Rebecca stated coolly but blushed.

He grinned quickly. And had to look away.

_-What does that mean? Doesn't he want us to have feelings for each other? Was he just joking last night?_

Lenora rolled her eyes. _No, silly. He's just worried, and I understand him. And please, don't turn into a silly goose because the boy looked you directly in the eyes. _She giggled. Rebecca bit her lip and tried to concentrate on the journey.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** Eragon belongs to Christopher Paolini.

Happy New Year!

**First Steps **

"All right. If the soldiers still can't feel pain, we'll need effective weapons in the front. Swordsmen, I'd say, to behead them, and magicians who try to break the spells." Nasuada looked at Trianna. "Do you think you can do that?"

"It should be hard, Your Majesty, because Galbatorix can do powerful magic. But we'll do our best." "The elves will help you, of course", Arya mentioned.

"Maybe we could use black powder", King Orrin suggested. "It is highly explosive and we would get rid of many soldiers within a few moments."

"Isn't that a bit dangerous?" Jörmundur frowned. "What if there are men of ours among them?"

"Well, we would have to detonate it before the armies meet", the King replied.

Angela cleared her throat. "This all sounds very effective and professional, but might I remind you that we are talking about people? Humans? Hundreds of living creatures? They didn't ask for being recruited and then killed in a battle they don't understand. If we broke the spells put on them, the whole affair would be less bloody and more…"

"You are right and I'm not at all happy about what must be done. But this is a battle, Angela. You can't expect us to disarm and tie them up until there's nobody left to fight." Nasuada threw her hands up and sat back. Angela raised an eyebrow. "Fine, I'll be quiet." She got up and left the tent. "Your Majesties", they heard her say outside. "I daresay you're late."

Queen Islanzadi and King Darius came in. "I'm utterly sorry", the King apologized, "but I was held up by the Dragon Riders." Islanzadi clicked her tongue in irritation. "Your presence is required, Arya", she told her daughter, who got up and left, her mother replacing her.

Arya blinked at the sun and stretched her arms. She would never admit it, but she was glad to leave. Though she could understand Angela, she agreed more with Nasuada and Orrin. Shaking her head, she tried to find Eragon's mind.

_:: Eragon, where are you?_

_- Arya?_

:: _Yes. Mother told me my presence was required._

_- We asked her if she could ask you to give your opinion._

_:: On what?_

_- Come here._

_:: Where?_

_- Murtagh's tent. _Arya sighed and ran.

When she reached the place, she was surprised not to see Rebecca, but Rea talking to the brothers. The girl shook her head violently and grabbed Eragon's hand to stop him from touching her knee. Arya's eyes narrowed. "Eragon!"

He turned and smiled at her. "Thank you for coming, we really need your help."

"Where's Rebecca?"

"At the gates", Rea said with a confused expression on her face. "It was something about horses."

"Carina", Murtagh murmured cryptically.

"Well never mind!" Eragon looked at the elf. "We were just discussing –"

"- whether or not it's a good idea to waste your power!" Rea interrupted him furiously.

"- whether or not we should try to heal her legs", Eragon finished.

"Yes, and that's the point – _try_! What if it's not possible?"

"It is possible", Arya answered dryly. Rea scowled at her. "But – whatever. You ought to save as much power as possible."

"Better lose some power than having you fight in that wheelchair. Don't deny that you want to fight" Murtagh added, seeing the look on her face. The Princess took a deep breath. "It's irrational. You need all your power."

"What's your weapon, a rapier?" Murtagh asked. "You have to admit a wheelchair would be fairly unhandy in this case."

She frowned. Arya sighed and put a hand on her legs. "Give me your hand, Eragon." He obeyed and took not only hers but also Murtagh's. Arya shook her head. "We have to go inside." They helped Rea on her bed. The elf laid her free hand on the girl's back. Her magic found the discontinuity in Rea's nerve tract. Little sweat drops appeared on their foreheads as the discontinuity began to close painfully slowly. Rea felt a prickle in the lower parts of her body; however, her giggle froze as she watched the others. Arya, the elf, wasn't having serious problems, she just looked highly concentrated. Eragon Shadeslayer was a Dragon Rider and almost an elf, his breath was going faster than usual and his eyes were closed so tight she doubted he would be able to open them again. But Murtagh, who, compared to the others, was only an "ordinary" magician, hadn't been a Dragon Rider for as long as Eragon – despite Galbatorix's education-, and hadn't improved much in Ellesméra. Therefore, his powers were less developed and the whole procedure weakened him more than the others. He was deathly pale, shaking and staring at a tent pole with wide eyes. That was when Rea heard quick steps outside and Rebecca returned – only to stop Murtagh from hitting the ground. Eragon and Arya got up, wiping sweat off their foreheads. Arya seemed pleased. "You should be able to walk now." Then she turned to the boys. "Honestly, Morzansson. Why did you give me so much power? Look what you've done to yourself."

"It's hopeless", Eragon and Rebecca complained simultaneously. The girl glared at weakly-grinning Murtagh and went to her sister with an expression of great amazement. "How do you feel? I mean, do you feel at all?" She prodded Rea in the right shank. The Crown Princess of Rutania squealed, tucked up her legs and slapped Rebecca on the wrist. Eragon laughed. "Seems you _are_ cured."

The sisters beamed at each other then hugged. Arya gave Murtagh some of the "spare" power and helped him onto his feet. "I'd come up with a good explanation for Thorn if I were you", she mumbled. "Eragon and I will take my mother and Nasuada." He laughed quietly, thanked her and left the tent, pulling his half-brother with him.

"I can't believe it!" Rebecca cried, turning to face Arya. "You've actually healed her!"

"Thank you so much. I'll always be in your debt." A tear rolled down Rea's cheek. Arya smiled. "You're welcome. Let's hope it will be of great use in the…in your life."

"Well, first of all I need to walk." Rea dragged herself to the edge of her bed and let her feet dangle. When her toes touched the ground, she winced and chuckled. "It tickles." At the surprise in her voice Rebecca burst out with laughter. "Come on, sister. Let's _go_." Arya and Rebecca put one of Rea's arms on their shoulders each and pulled her to her feet. At first she stumbled and her knees gave away but soon her leg muscles obeyed the unusual orders from her brain and she took the first wobbly steps, laughing and crying at the same time. Carefully, first Arya and then Rebecca let go of Rea's arms, and finally the princess stood on her own feet without any help. She tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with sheer joy and excitement.

_She's going to be a magnificent queen_, Lenora, who had watched them through her Rider's eyes, commented.

_Indeed she is._

Arya suggested practising a little more but Rea needed a break. She walked back to her bed (with help) and sat down. The elf sat beside her. "I need a break, too. Those how-do-we-kill-as-many-as-possible sessions make me sick." Rea smiled at her. "Well, then let's distract you…I love your hair. May I braid it?"

Arya looked at her as if to find out whether she was being serious but the Princess didn't turn a hair. "Oh well, if you want to…?"

Rebecca grinned and left the marquee. She wanted to find the boys, though was relieved from the search when all of a sudden there was a whooshing noise in the air. She tilted her head back to see Saphira and Thorn chasing each other "around" the camp. Eragon and Murtagh were roaring with delight. Rebecca wasn't even able to feel envious before Lenora called her.

_Rebecca! Please come here and let us join them! _

_Coming. _Her feet found the way almost by themselves. Lenora had got her saddle and snorted impatiently when the girl tightened the girths. _Faster! _

_Yes, Len, I just don't want to hurt you! _Rebecca mounted her dragon and strapped down her legs. Soon Lenora had caught up with the other dragons. Thorn gave the girls a single sneer and shot off. Murtagh turned and grinned at Eragon and Rebecca, looking happier than they'd seen him in the past time. Saphira roared and shared a glance with Lenora.

~ _Let's get_ _him._

For a while they forgot about anything but the moment.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer:** Eragon belongs to Christopher Paolini.

**A/N: **Well, the chapter title is a wee bit inappropriate, but I see that book (by Deborah Crombie) all the time because we have it lying around at home. Anyway, I hope you like this one. I'm not sure whether I should've made it more/less sentimental. Too late now. After it, there'll be the battle…oh my, wish me luck with that. And now read and enjoy.

* * *

**Kissed a Sad Goodbye**

They had been in trouble, of course: Arya, Murtagh and Eragon for healing Rea, the Dragon Riders for having a little bit of fun. But now everything was forgotten. It was Thursday, the day Galbatorix would attack. The horses – Carina's herd – had come from the desert to help them. Urgals, Dwarfs, Elves, people from Carvahall, Varden, King Orrin's men and the Rutanians were united in one giant army. Nasuada, Orrin, Islanzadi, Darius, Orik and Nar Garzhvog would lead them into battle. Rea and her mother Keira had decided on fighting amongst the warriors. Katrina, who had refused to leave ("Nowhere is safe if you lose, and I'd rather die than live without you, Roran!"), would be positioned on a rather high hill, somewhere behind the _Du Vrangr Gata_. Angela and Taitha and Tamara were to stay beside her, prepared to kill anyone who dared to come near. The twins had a bag full of throwing knifes with blades so sharp they cut through leather and light metal with ease. A boomerang spell had been cast on the knifes so they would reappear in the bag two minutes after the throw. Katrina herself had decided to take a dagger with her. On another hill Arya, Rebecca, Lenora, Murtagh, Thorn, Eragon and Saphira would be waiting for the tyrant himself to appear. It seemed clear to them that Galbatorix wouldn't fight anyone but the Riders, and though she would never say it, Arya just couldn't leave them alone. She had been through so much with Eragon and Saphira, and the Dragons were near and dear to her.

* * *

It was time to say goodbye. Arya looked for Murtagh and, having found him, gave him her hand. "I just want you to know that I fully trust you. You're not at all like your father." Before he could do more than thank her, she went over to Rebecca but stopped when she saw the girl in a tight embrace with her parents. Darius and Keira could hardly let go of their daughter, but when the twins came near they hurried away. Taitha and Tamara didn't hug Rebecca, they just held her hands and stood beside her for a moment. Then Rea appeared.

Arya turned her face away, only to watch Eragon, Roran and Murtagh talking to each other with expressions of clear awkwardness. Roran hugged his cousin – Eragon –, and having taken Murtagh's hand for a second, he turned abruptly to see Katrina once more. Eragon bowed his head and said something which made Murtagh give a choked laughter. The unequal yet oh-so-similar brothers didn't know what to do. Finally, Eragon cleared his throat. "I'm glad you're standing here with me. I was so happy when you came back…now it seems I might lose you again."

"Or the other way round. I, too, missed you so much that it hurt like a dagger in my heart." Murtagh's mouth was a thin line, but his eyes glowed with sincerity. "Please tell me again: Can you forgive me?"

"I can, and I will", Eragon answered. "I forgive you, Murtagh, if you forgive me my foolishness. It doesn't matter who our fathers were. What counts is what we are, and we'll always have a choice." His brother nodded, too anxious to disagree, and left, as he had noticed Arya obviously waiting for them to finish.

The elf put a hand on the young man's shoulder. "Be strong, Eragon." "I will", he replied. "I would like you to become Queen of Du Weldenvarden one day, Arya." And before his courage could leave him, he gave her a hug. At first she winced and stiffened, but then she put her arms around him and let herself rest against him for a moment.

Rebecca didn't know what to say or do when Rea walked towards her. Dear, she was marvellous. They hadn't known she was so tall. The rapier on her belt glinted in the sun, and her sleek legs looked as if she'd never sat in a wheelchair. "Rebecca", she said with her warm older-sister-voice. "Oh, my dear. Look at you. You've grown up."

"What do you mean?"

"You've become a warrior, and you're almost as tall as me." Rea tried to laugh, but it came out as a sob. "And these clothes are beautiful."

"They're elven-made", Rebecca whispered. "A gift from Ellesméra, like my barrette." The brown shirt and trousers fit perfectly, as did the green doublet. Murtagh had got the same in red and grey, and Eragon wore blue and beige. No black or gold, because those were Galbatorix's colours. – The girl wiped a tear off her face. "Rea…" And before either of them could say more, they hugged; hugged so tight they could hardly breathe. Rea's knuckles went white as she grabbed her sister's arms, and her whole body was shaken with sobs. Her sister buried her face in Rea's shoulder and opened her mouth in a silent cry. They didn't know how much time had passed when they finally let go. "Goodbye", the Crown Princess whispered and stormed away.

Arya approached Rebecca, who seemed terribly lonely, and put a hand on the girl's shoulder. "When I met you for the first time, I thought you were slightly crazy. But I've learned to like you. So try to survive." The girl looked up at her, something like a spark of life reappearing in her eyes. "I'll try if I can do you a favour with it. And if the two of you survive – gather your courage, Arya, and talk to Eragon."

Arya smiled swiftly and gave Rebecca a tight hug. _Yes, _she thought. But she kept quiet. The one they had been talking about tapped her on the shoulder. "May I?" The elf nodded and took a step back. Eragon and Rebecca hugged. "Take care of Murtagh if I die", Eragon mumbled; he didn't want his brother to overhear him. "Same to you", Rebecca whispered.

A horn blew. Everyone froze and turned to stare at the horizon, where a dust cloud emerged.

"Oh, no" Eragon murmured and hurried away, along with Arya. Rebecca began to follow them but was held back when Murtagh grabbed her arm. She spun around to look at him. He took her hand. "Don't cry, Princess." She clenched her teeth together, tears glistening in her eyes. "Don't die, Murtagh."

"I won't", he joked lightly. For a moment they just stood there looking at each other, memorising every line and wrinkle in the beloved face. Calmly, Murtagh bent down and placed a small kiss on Rebecca's forehead. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her tears soaking his shoulder as he lifted her off the ground. When he set her back on her feet, she let go of him, but it was impossible for either of them to just walk away. The young man hesitated to take her face in his hands. "Whatever" he breathed and kissed her on the mouth. The kiss was somehow rough; desperate and hasty. However, Rebecca responded to it, while all around them people would scurry towards the battlefield, not taking any note of what was going on between the Dragon Riders.

"Come, Becca", Murtagh said quietly after he had broken off the kiss. "They're waiting for us." He took her hand again and went after his brother. The girl walked beside him in silence.

On top of the hill, Saphira, Lenora and Thorn put their heads together and closed their eyes, sharing a silent goodbye. The blue dragon opened her eyes first, she nudged Eragon and sighed.

~_I love you, little one._

_-I love you, too. This is the day._

_~This is what we were born, raised, and educated for._ Saphira thought of Oromis and Glaedr for a moment.

Rebecca put a hand on Lenora's neck and looked in her dragon's eyes.

_I'm afraid_, she confessed.

_I know. Me too. _

_But we'll do our best._

_Of course. We can't let the Empire win. Can you promise me something?_

_Whatever it is._

_If I die…don't despair._

_You won't die!_ Rebecca flung her arms around her Dragon and held her tight.

Murtagh, who had been playing with the broad silver bracelet the elves had given him, turned to face Thorn.

_**Hey, little one.**_

_We'll make him pay._

_**No doubt, **_Thorn replied grimly. _**And if we die, we'll take him with us.**_

Arya cleared her throat. Everyone looked at her pointing at a black shape flying directly towards them. "Shruikan", Murtagh said quietly and put a hand on Zar'roc's pommel. The army beneath them let out the breath they had been holding back.

He was coming.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer:** Eragon belongs to Christopher Paolini.

Sorry, it's late again! I sincerely apologise. One small note: The _italics_ in quotation marks are in the Ancient Language. Every word. Mind that, it's important.

Anyway, I hope you like the chapter. (If not, blame Lord of the Rings – I was listening to the soundtrack while writing this.)

**Seven Words**

The world slowed down and the blood in their veins felt like ice. Even as they mounted the Dragons, every movement was slow and hesitating. This could be the last time, this could be the beginning of the end. Who knew? Fear was everywhere, like a thick dark cloud obscuring the sun.

As if they didn't know what to do, the army of the Empire came to a halt about two hundred metres before the others. One could have cut the tension with a blunt knife, and the silence was unbearable. But apparently, Galbatorix didn't seem to notice or be bothered by the invisible wall, and he directed Shruikan straight towards where the other Dragons were awaiting him. For a moment the black wings cast a shadow on their faces – until Saphira narrowed her eyes and she, Lenora and Thorn spread their wings and rose into the air, three beautiful, elegant creatures in bright colours; and they answered Shruikan's roar with a cry of their own and charged him. The very same moment the armies moved and met with one loud, horrible sound.

Arya stood on the rock, one hand in the bag with Glaedr's Eldunarí, supporting the Riders magically. But she was shivering so hard she had to clench her teeth together so she wouldn't bite off her tongue. No matter how much they had trained, they had had no idea of what incredible strength Galbatorix owned. Not even Murtagh was prepared for the force of the king's strikes and magical attacks. He was about five metres away, nevertheless Zar'roc clashed against some invisible blade. Sparks were emitted by the point where Brisingr, now on flames, hit Shruikan's armour. A dozen arrows were fired at the black dragon; five of them got stuck in his tail but seven flew past and, as Rebecca had hoped, killed two enemies on the ground. Arya let her eyes wander across the battlefield. Small flashes of silver – throwing knives – hit soldiers of the Empire and returned to the twins; a herd of fiery horses were attacking from one side, the Kull from the other one. However, things didn't look good for Nasuada's army. They had never looked good. Now people were falling, limbs lying separated from the body they belonged to. Entrails and blood were spread all over the battlefield. Arya could see Nasuada screaming, Jörmundur lying on the ground, motionless – the helmet of a dwarf being thrown into the air from somewhere, and above all there was the gruesome laughter of the bewitched soldiers. The elf wanted to find her mother, to go help, but she couldn't – couldn't leave. It was terrible. She looked up to see the Dragon Riders in a hopeless fight. They were already bleeding from several wounds, even Galbatorix himself. Arya winced. How much time had passed?

_::Eragon, we have incurred a great loss already._

_-I know! Just concentrate on beating _him_, that's our only hope. If we can kill him in time, we'll – _

_Eragon!_ Murtagh and Thorn made an abrupt turn and got between Galbatorix's blade and the blue Rider. Eragon got away without a new scratch, but the blade plunged deeply into Murtagh's stomach. He opened his mouth, but no scream came out. Thorn, however, roared in pain as Shruikan dug his teeth in the red Dragon's stump at the tail. He rose one last time then fell, turning over again and again. Arya gasped, using every bit of power Glaedr could gather to stop Thorn from breaking his neck. She slowed down his fall, but couldn't do anything more. Eragon and Rebecca had watched the scene with horror. Galbatorix's mad laughter caused them to jerk and look at him with profound hatred. Eragon went straight forward and attacked him with new strength, caused by the loss of his brother. Rebecca drew an arrow, but before she could nock it, she heard Murtagh's voice in her head – weak and hoarse, but she heard it.

_He hasn't brought all of his Eldunarí…and he hasn't tried to break our minds yet. He wants it to be done __properly…_

_-Murtagh, save your strength!_

_Just thought…m-might help… _With this, he lost consciousness, and all of a sudden Rebecca knew what to do. Her hand clasped the small bag attached to her belt. She picked out a small, greenish-yellow grain and threw it at Galbatorix. It touched the usurper's face with the impact of a raindrop. He probably hadn't felt it at all, but the consequences were fatal. Eragon _had_ noticed it, and he knew what it was, so when Rebecca started to fire arrows at Shruikan and his Rider so fast her bowstring gave a whirring noise, he asked Saphira to sink on the floor. He could still see the grain lying two metres away from Arya's feet, it was now surrounded by a pulsating golden light. It grew roots…and leaves…a stalk… buds… blossoms. Something clicked inside his head, and the seven words Brom had once told him never to use unless in greatest need came to his mind.

But how should he say them without dying? He glanced at Arya, who was bending over Murtagh, trying to heal the hole in his body. Then he found a solution. It was so simple; he couldn't believe nobody had thought of it before: He had to say the name last.

Eragon raised his voice magically, and in the Ancient Language he said: "_Release the spells cast upon your name, Galbatorix!" _Galbatorix glared at him in horrified disbelief as Eragon spoke his True Name. The young man choked but remained upright, and a moment later the pain in his lungs and throat were gone. _Gone._ He had gained control over Galbatorix without losing his life. He looked at the sky again. _"Release any spell that you have ever cast upon anyone or anything!"_

On the battlefield thousands of the wounded and bewitched soldiers fell to their knees, screaming in pain. A strong wind blew across the plain and between the rocks. In Ilirea, the castle fell apart, and the souls of the Dragons whose Eldunarí had been shattered by falling stones were redeemed from their century-old grief and imprisonment. The last creature to be freed was Shruikan. When his master relieved him, he sighed and looked at Lenora and Rebecca.

_Wise maids._

To Thorn and Murtagh he said, _I apologise. _

Then he faced Saphira and Eragon. _Will you come with me?_

_~We will, _the blue Dragon answered.

They flew a mile until they reached a canyon. There, Shruikan landed and, not paying any attention to the frantic old man on his back, carved a stone with his claw.

_I give you my power, but not my soul. Farewell, little ones. _Before they could do or say anything, he catapulted Galbatorix into the air, flew after him and broke his neck with one strong bite. Then, the two of them fell into the canyon, Shruikan roaring and Galbatorix's limbs dangling like the legs of a rag doll. After some horrible moments, they hit the ground, and there was silence.

Eragon tasted a tear on his lips. Saphira picked up the carved stone.

~_We should go. What had to be done, is done. _

_::May they rest in peace__._


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer:** Eragon belongs to Christopher Paolini.

(By the way: I do know you usually write "dragon" and so on in small letters, but to me it seems appropriate to write them with a capital "D" in a story that's mainly about dragons, pardon - Dragons, and Dragon Riders.)

* * *

**Silence After a Storm**

Murtagh woke. His eyelids fluttered for a second; then he saw the sky. It was clear and blue. Somewhere far away he could hear people walk…and talk…and cry, but on the rock where he was lying there was silence. Only the wind played its own dreamy song, and very close to him a creature was breathing. It took him a second before he noticed it was Thorn. He wondered if the others were there as well and intended to sit up – but his stomach protested, it hurt so much. He leant back against what had to be Thorn's leg. However, someone had noticed his attempt. Lenora turned her big green head to look at him.

_Murtagh, are you awake?_

_Yes._ His answer seemed to relieve her.

_What's happened?_

_He's dead. Shruikan killed him._

_Huh? _His mind wasn't fully awake yet, but it told him something was strange about that.

_Wait, I'll show you. But before that – do you see that withered plant close to the edge?_ He could see it. It had black stalks and dark green leaves shaped like spearheads; and its blossoms were poisonous-looking yellow jonquils with a spiky black margin.

_What about it?_

_That was his _Flower of Names._ You gave us the idea of using the seeds – Rebecca had kept a few when she gave them to the Elves._ Lenora showed him what had happened, the last bit being a memory of Saphira. Murtagh grimaced as he saw Shruikan fall.

_So – are you all right?_

_We all have some scratches –__ except for Arya, that is – but you were wounded worst. Physically, I might add. _

_How many…?_

_We don't know yet. They're all asleep, and I can't fly – my left wing is hurt. __So we have no idea as long as none of the magicians down there try to contact us._

He nodded. _Thanks, Lenora._

She gave him a dragon smile. _I'm glad you're alive._

Murtagh tried to smile back, but he was tired…so tired…

* * *

When he woke again, two or three hours later, Arya bent over him. "How are you, Morzansson?" she asked.

"My stomach hurts."

"No wonder; that blow could have killed you." She pulled away his torn shirt so he could see the gash. It looked nasty.

"Ouch, that looks painful." Eragon grimaced. "But thank you for saving my life, Murtagh."

"No problem." He grinned weakly. "Where's Becca?"

_**Still asleep,**_Thorn growled, delighted with his Rider's alertness. Now he could see her, she was curled up under Lenora's left wing. Eragon started to saddle Saphira. "We're going down to see what's happened", Eragon explained. "And if you don't mind, we'll take Shruikan's…stone with us."

~_I hope Nasuada, Angela and Roran are still alive. I think I saw Katrina just a minute ago._

"I'm coming with you", Arya said and, without asking, sat behind Eragon, wrapping her arms around his waist. He blushed slightly. Saphira snorted in amusement and took off. Murtagh sighed and closed his eyes to get some more sleep.

* * *

When he woke for the third time, Thorn looked him directly in the eyes.

_**Hullo, little one. Slept enough now?**_

_Yes, I think so. Dear, I feel somehow crapulent._

_**Maybe you should eat and drink something. Now that it can't just run through your body and come out of that gash again.**_

_That's disgusting__, Thorn. _Rebecca showed up behind a red wing. She looked tired but strangely happy. _How are you?_

_Like I said – crapulent. _

She gave him some water. He tried to sit up, and this time it was possible. Painful but possible. He sighed. _Heard anything from Eragon?_

_No, sorry. But I'm planning on going down myself. What about you?_

_Don't be silly, Rebecca, he's hurt._

_Thanks, Lenora, but I think __it's possible. Thorn will carry me carefully. Won't you, Thorn?_

_**Of course I will. **_So, a short while later they were in the air. Thorn and Lenora had some trouble finding a place to land – there were people everywhere, whether dead or alive. Finally they landed on a spot a mile away from the rock. Rebecca and Murtagh dismounted, and the Dragons took off again. Their Riders began to walk towards what seemed like the centre of this chaos: Nasuada, Arya, Eragon, Roran, and King Orrin standing close together, discussing, assigning several duties to people, trying to establish some sort of order on the gigantic battle field.

"Oh my", Murtagh croaked. "Look at this soldier. He can't have been older than you." The soldier of the Empire was indeed very young. His hand clasped the spear which was stuck in his heart, his lifeless eyes were wide open and stared into the sky, and his fair hair shone in the pale sun like a halo. Rebecca gulped. "This is so horrible." Murtagh reached out and held on to her shoulder. "Don't worry – I'll be fine in a second." He took a deep breath and wiped his hair out of his face. The girl stiffened. – "Rea!" She started to run. Murtagh stayed where he was, staggering a little. But before she reached her sisters, Rebecca stopped dead. On Rea's head, between strands of her long black hair, glittered the golden crown of the King or Queen of Rutania.

The girl fell on one knee and bowed her head. "My…" her voice was all hoarse. "My Queen", she whispered. Rea bent down and put her hands on her sister's shoulders. "My sister", she murmured softly. "Rise."

Rebecca couldn't see anything. Tears were blurring her view. "Mother…father…"

"They're gone", Rea grinded out and hugged her sister tightly. Taitha and Tamara clung to their sides. How many moments had passed when they let go? No one knew. Finally, the new Queen breathed heavily. "Rebecca, there are other people who need our help."

Her sister nodded and let go. The twins squeezed her hands once more, then they left to help Angela and Katrina. Rea approached Nasuada. Murtagh didn't know what to do, so he just put an arm around the grieving girl, which was probably the best thing to do. "I'm so sorry", he muttered. She gave him a small, grateful smile and wiped away another tear.

_Little one, are you alright?_

_I am, Lenora. Give me some time._

_I love you,_ Lenora said, and retired gracefully. Life would be going on.


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer:** Eragon belongs to Christopher Paolini.

* * *

**All ****the Rest Is Pleasance**

What a wonderful day it was! The autumn sun was shining, painting the leaves a brilliant gold and red, birds were chirping, there was a soft wind from the south. All over the castle in Rutan, the capital of Rutania, colourful-dressed people walked around, talking cheerfully to each other. Servants and maids were hurrying across the yard and through the corridors, taking things from here to there. Excitement was in the air. Even the horses in the stables couldn't stay still, but perhaps that was because of the presence of Nar Garzhvog and some of the Kull from his tribe. Most of the humans weren't too happy about their presence, either, but they didn't complain. After years of oppression and dolour and the war which had cost many lives although they had won it, this was a day of happiness and no one wanted to ruin it.

At noon, when the sun had reached the highest point of its orbit, everyone gathered at the throne room. Well, as the room wasn't very big, the most important people did: the members of the royal family, Queen Nasuada herself (Jörmundur had died in battle), King Orrin's delegates, King Orik and his wife Hvedra, Nar Garzhvog, Arya as her mother's official deputy. She was standing quite close to Eragon. Rebecca, as the princess she was, stood close to the throne, but Murtagh was beside his brother. And a little further, next to a small door, were Roran and Katrina with their three-months-old son Garrow Nolfavrell Roransson, of whom you could only see the small head with a copper red baby fluff.

And then Rea entered the room. She was wearing a bright yellow dress with a short train which was carried by the twins, who were wearing yellow as well. Rebecca thought her sister had never looked more beautiful and royal. The Lord Steward of Rutania, Deonvan Eikenhout, stepped forward; his little son followed him, carrying the golden crown on a red pillow. The master of ceremonies hit the ground with his staff. Everyone went quiet, even little Garrow. Eikenhout cleared his throat.

"Princess Rea Keirasdaughter, heir of our beloved King Darius – may he rest in peace –: Do you swear to reign and effectively defend the kingdom given to you with the justice and wisdom of your ancestors?"

"Yes, I do."

"Do you swear to preserve the rights of the kingdom and kingship, regain the goods wrongfully stolen, and use them for the benefit of Rutania?"

"Yes, I do."

"Do you swear to be an impartial judge and caring guardian to the poor and the weak, the widows and orphans?"

"Yes, I do."

The master of ceremonies gave the Lord Steward the royal signet ring and Rea's rapier. It had been polished, and the handle was decorated with ribbons. Deonvan Eikenhout put the ring on Rea's finger and handed her the rapier. Then he draped a red cloak around her shoulders. His son stepped forward, holding the pillow out to his father. He seemed very nervous but relaxed a little when Eikenhout smiled at him and everyone present started to smile, too, even Rea. The Lord Steward took the crown and placed it on Rea's head.

Rebecca held her breath as her sister got up and turned around. The master of ceremonies raised his voice. "All hail, Queen Rea II. of Rutania!"

"Heaven save the Queen!" the people responded and bowed.

Then the Rutanian nobility took their oath of loyalty or fealty, Rebecca went first. Eikenhout asked her whether she would obey her Queen and "in imperturbable loyalty" assist her with her royal duties. She would, and shared a smile with Rea. However, she didn't stay to watch Taitha, Tamara and the others take the oath but pulled Eragon and Murtagh to a small door which led to the stables.

"That was magnificent", Eragon said. "You're lucky to be part of this country."

"I know", Rebecca smiled, disappearing into an empty stall.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"Putting on _trousers_, Murtagh. Do you want to watch?" she asked mischievously. He blushed but answered: "Some other time." Eragon rolled his eyes and banged his forehead against a wooden beam. When the girl was done, they went out to their Dragons. Saphira greeted Eragon with a grin.

~_What's the matter? They're in love._

_-They should get a room, _he grumbled.

~_Come on, just because you can't get started with Arya – _

_-Saphira?_

_~Yes, little one?_

_-Shut up._

She snorted and told him to get on her back already. They rode along the wall, still hiding behind it, Murtagh with Shruikan's carved stone, Eragon with Glaedr (he had given up calling it an _Eldunarí_ because it was Glaedr, not just a golden egg), and Rebecca with a basket full of flowers and leaves painted gold. They heard the doors open and the crowd started to cheer; obviously Rea had come out, the whole court behind her. In Eragon's head, Arya began to count down from thirty.

_::__…Five…four…three…two…one. Off you go. _Eragon raised his hand and the Dragons rose into the air simultaneously, as always magnificent to look at. Everyone looked up in surprise. A wide smile appeared on Rea's face and the twins dropped her train. Roran shook his head amusedly. His son squealed with happiness and Katrina gasped as Rebecca, flying in the middle, began to throw flowers on the court. Murtagh held away the clouds at the horizon and made sure the wind spread the flowers and leaves a little. Eragon conducted an invisible choir and the majestic yet cheerful music filled the air. Then Lenora flew forward so her rider could "stow" the basket on the very top of the highest tower of the castle. Thorn and Saphira followed her and started a little flying show right above the court. It was beautiful and breathtaking to watch, people applauded when it was over and they landed. Behind the castle walls, the Dragons and their Riders beamed at each other.

Suddenly Saphira groaned in pain.

-_Saphira! What's happened?_

_~Help me, Eragon, I think I'm laying an egg!_

-_What?_ But the blue dragon didn't answer. Lenora, Thorn and Eragon did their best to get her to a safer place beneath some trees. Eragon understood what was going on when he saw how worried Thorn was, bending his neck and nuzzling Saphira's head. Lenora winked. _Aww. They're so sweet._

_Wait, you knew this?_

_Didn't you, Becca?_

_I guessed something…but I had no idea they were so far already!_

Murtagh frowned, he seemed a little confused. Then he smiled.

_Hey, Thorn – be sure to be a better father than mine was._

_**You can bet your life on that, Murtagh.**_

* * *

It all went surprisingly quick. Ten minutes later Saphira and Thorn snuggled together, watching the yellow egg in awe (yes, it was yellow – for no apparent reason, but they thought it was pretty). Lenora flew off to get the basket and to give them some privacy. Eragon and Murtagh didn't really want to leave, but Rebecca stepped on their feet and pushed them towards the castle. "Get to the party, already", she told them, "I have to change into a proper dress before I join you."

"Fine", Murtagh agreed, "but you owe me a dance."

"Why is that?" Eragon wanted to know.

"Oh, I had to dance with her permanently when we were in Ellesméra."

"That's not true. It was only one dance and besides, you had to pay your haircut with it!"

"I insist", he grinned and left the stables, calling, "Eragon, stop shaking your head like that or you'll get a shaken impact syndrome."

Arya greeted them at the door. "Where have you been? The show was half an hour ago."

"Uh…long story", Eragon replied. "Come, I will tell you at a safer place. This is nothing to be discussed in public…not yet." They went away. (We'll just leave them at that point.)

_Finally_, Murtagh thought in amusement and looked out for Rea. He needed to ask her something.

"Murtagh?" Nasuada held him back. As always she got to the point immediately. "You have met most of the lords of Alagaësia. Do you think with them it would be possible to split the kingdom in several counties which are a little more independent but still subordinate to a king or queen?"

He stared at her, taken by surprise for a second. This was not a bad idea… "Some of them might support that, yes", he answered. "Some others you will probably have to replace, Mylady." He was sure she had planned this new state system in detail, even if her way of saying it had been careful and vague. Nasuada nodded as if she had expected this answer. "Could you write me a list with the supportive and…the others, please?"

"Of course."

She gave him a short smile and walked away. Murtagh followed her with the eye. She was still graceful and royal…but his crush on her had gone. Faded away during the time at Galbatorix's service, somehow. This reminded him…there she was. He stepped beside her. "Rea – er, Your Majesty?"

"Yes, please, Murtagh?"

He looked around to be sure no one was listening then quickly said, "If I asked you for Rebecca's hand, would you say yes?"

She froze and frowned. "Asked me for her hand? It doesn't work this way here, Rider. Apart from that, don't you think it's a bit early?"

"I know. And I'd never ask you for her hand without asking _her_ before. It's just…if I _ever_ considered marrying her, would you support me…us?"

Rea watched his face and thought about his request for a while. It seemed like an eternity to Murtagh until she sighed and spoke again. "I would. But you must never, ever hurt my sister. Do you understand?"

"Yes, and I swear I will never do any harm to her, or I want to drop dead." His voice sounded solemn.

"Good. Now you have to excuse me, Taitha and Tamara have forced me into a discussion about a new hospital and the bursar has some doubts…oh, I see," she added, "you won't be unoccupied." With a smile, Queen Rea nodded towards the small side door and went away. Rebecca had managed to put on her best dress (it was green). And she looked gorgeous.

Her gaze wandered over the crowd. When she saw him, her lips twisted into a smile and she came near. "There you are!"

"Here I am, Princess. How can I be of help?"

"I'm here to pay my debts", she said, brushing his mouth with her lips. Murtagh grinned and put a hand on her waist. "As I think we should deepen this a little…

Yes, you can have this dance."


	19. AN

**Author's Note**

(I know you shouldn't do this, but I didn't want to put it to the end of the last chapter.)

* * *

Hey everyone,

Whoa. I can't believe I actually managed to finish this before I go on holiday^^ but there I am…with a finished Eragon FF. I know parts of it are crappy and Rebecca is a Mary Sue sometimes. Well, it was only my third Fanfiction – I'll try to improve, I promise!

To those who have read the whole story (or most of it): Thank you!

To those who have reviewed: Thank you even more!

And last of all, to Restrained Freedom, who has reviewed every single chapter: Thank you so much for your support – if it hadn't been for you, maybe I wouldn't have got this far.

So…that was it. I hope you enjoyed it. If you have any questions (on the Eragon/Arya romance or Nasuada's idea or…), PM me. Or put it in a review.

Cheers!

stabatmater


End file.
